


Beginnings

by thenewbrokenscene



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Luke, Awkward Michael, Awkward Romance, Awkwardness, Blow Jobs, College, Drunk Luke, Drunk Michael, Gen, Hand Jobs, M/M, School, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-04-11 05:16:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 45,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4422803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenewbrokenscene/pseuds/thenewbrokenscene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[College/University AU]<br/>Michael Clifford was a sophomore transfer student, trapped living in the dorms again after a technicality dropped him back down to freshman status.  He had requested a single room, determined to focus on his school work, get out of university housing as quickly as possible, and start his real life, but of course, on August 1st he received the obligatory "Get to know your new roommate this summer!  You can contact Luke Hemmings, freshman student, at his school email..." message in his inbox.  </p><p>Whatever.  Let's just get this year over with.<br/>(rating change T-->M, tags tbd)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "hey"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never written 5sos fanfic before (or fanfic in general in like.......5 years?? At least) so hopefully this isn't an extremely common trope or whatever. I also haven't read a lot of 5sos fanfic aside from oneshots on tumblr so there's that too.  
> I know next to nothing about Australian schools so this is based in the US, and mostly based on my own experiences with being in college rather than just things I've seen in movies! So, any questions, just ask!

"Of fucking course," Michael sighed, staring at the bright screen of his laptop in the darkness of his bedroom.  His school email was open, to a message that read,

_August 1st, 2015_

_Welcome, new university housing student Michael Clifford!_

_It's time to get to know your new roommate this summer! You may contact Luke Hemmings, freshman student,-_

Ugh.

_-at his school email, lrhemmings@sosu.edu. We recommend contacting your roommate before move-in, to work out the details of who will be bringing certain appliances, scheduling arrangements, and simply making your first friend here at SOSU!_

_Have a great rest of the summer,_

_University Housing Team_

The 19-year-old continued to glare at his computer, reading the email over again several times, as if he was simply missing the part that said 'haha, just kidding!  Everything's not going to shit!'  

He had specifically requested a single bedroom, hoping to completely ignore any outside distractions from his schoolwork, and hoping to avoid a roommate-from-Hell situation like the one he had been stuck in last year.  Mandatory roommates were terrible, Michael had decided early on in his college career, and he just wanted to escape from university housing as quickly as possible and find himself an apartment with real friends, like all the other sophomores.  

But technically, Michael reminded himself, he wasn't a sophomore.  His old school, after promising and promising that all his credits would transfer to SOSU, mucked up the actual transferring process, leaving him around $15,000 in debt, and effectively, a brand new freshman student with no credits under his belt, and thus would have to take on almost double the normal workload, plus winter and summer classes, to get himself back on track!  Just the news everyone wants to hear!  Michael didn't like to dwell on the memory of that day, which was filled with a lot of screaming, cursing, and a therapeutic lavender hair-dye session that left his hair fried nearly to death.

'Whatever,' he thought. 'Let's just get this year over with.  Maybe he won't even talk to me, maybe he's from the area and already has a group of friends, maybe--'

Ding.

Michael picked up his phone, screen illuminated from the arrival of a Facebook app notification.

_10:36 PM.  Luke Hemmings wants to be friends with you on Facebook._

Fuck.  Michael's heart rate sped up, and he didn't know why.  Probably because he just wasn't particularly good at interacting with strangers unless it was on his own terms, roommate preferences aside.

'It's just a friend request,' he thought, pressing the 'Confirm' button, due to the fact that he would be living with this person and couldn't very well ignore it, 'Maybe he doesn't even want to talk to me, he probably just wants to stalk through my pictures and statuses-'

Ding.  Facebook Messenger.  Luke Hemmings wants to talk, obviously.

Fuck!  He shouldn't have confirmed so quickly, now the little shit knew Michael was online!

"hey" said the message, simply.

'Oh god, not _hey_ , what kind of straight-white-boys-texts-from-Hell type of shit is this-'

Ding.  Goddamnit!

"idk if u read the email yet but were roommates this year haha :-)" Luke added.

'Oh please, is he going to send me a winky face next?' Michael thought, still on high-alert from that greeting.  A single 'hey' is certainly a red flag when private messaging with any boy, generally followed by the dreaded 'haha, so are you a virgin?? (; ' question.  Yes, Michael had been 15 once, too.  His fingers tapped at his phone screen to reply and take control of the conversation before Luke could type anything else.

"yeah, i read it a few minutes ago... you're a freshman, right?" Michael asked.  Oops, he'd forgotten to actually say hello.  Michael suddenly thought, 'Fuck I'm awkward, he's just trying to be nice and I can't even--'

"yup!! i saw that your a sophomore, did u transfer or?? :-O" Luke replied, Michael's slip-up not seeming to bother him.

They messaged back and forth a bit, Michael explaining that he had been on the waiting list for SOSU last year and how his old school ruined everything, and Michael asked if Luke knew who would be in the room adjacent to theirs', sharing their common area and bathroom.

"uh i think there names were collin and ashton or something. 1 of them is the RA," Luke answered.

"damn, looks like we won't be able to ~*~*pArTy HaRd*~*~ in the room lmao," Michael replied half-jokingly, but with the motive of learning more about what kind of person he would be sharing his room with.

No reply.  Michael wondered if he'd said something wrong.  He waited.  And then-

Luke is typing-

Nope, not anymore, the message disappeared.  Wait, Luke is typing again.  A long silence.  Still typing?  Michael considered replying just to change the subject, when--

"haha :-)" was the reply.  Interesting.  Michael kind of wanted to ask what that meant, but he really hadn't enjoyed that weird lack of a reply.

Michael changed the subject, to discuss who would bring the microwave, and who would bring the mini-fridge, and hammering out the possible shower-bathroom-sleep scheduling conflicts that came with having to live with a stranger.  

* * *

 

A little while after midnight, Luke stopped replying and Michael assumed he had gone to bed.

Well.  Time for some good old-fashioned Facebook stalking then.

He started with the profile pictures, as is traditional for a successful creeping session.  Michael gathered from the photos on Luke's profile that Luke didn't seem to take many selfies but appeared in good amount of group photos, had a girlfriend from the time he created his profile until sometime in 2012 when she disappeared from pictures completely, had two- rather attractive- older brothers, and a mom who seemed to love taking embarrassing candids of her youngest son.

He also learned that Luke had recently turned 18, lived in some suburb in the state of Washington, enjoyed sports- but, Michael noted somewhat cheerfully, not excessively- and used a lot of emojis and smiley faces with noses in his statuses and comments.

Luke apparently had a long phase of being obsessed with penguins as well, which Michael found both amusing and slightly annoying.  Luke seemed...young.  Michael hoped this wouldn't turn into a year of babysitting.

Deciding he had gathered a sufficient amount of information, Michael closed his laptop, and settled into bed.

About to drift off to sleep, a lot less distressed than he had been in the beginning of the evening, his eyes suddenly shot wide open.

Fuck.

Shit.

Oh my god.

'Oh my god, this freshman is going to think I'm such a fucking loser,' Michael thought, suddenly jarred awake by the realization that his Facebook profile picture was still an image of Pikachu from that stupid Pokemon profile picture month event.


	2. Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Move-in day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully I was able to get the concept of a 'suite' across, because as I understand it, a lot of dorms are just individual bedrooms with a shared bathroom on each floor. Suites are basically two (or more) bedrooms + a bathroom in one unit, and some have kitchens/living rooms, but this one does not.

August flew by quickly for Michael, because no matter how much time you have to sit in your pitch-black mancave and watch Netflix and play video games, it'll never feel like enough.  

Move-in day was upon him, and Michael was- nervous, as much as he hated to admit it.  He was having doubts about this venture, a senior year grab for "freedom" by moving states away to a far-off school where Michael could finally have a "fresh start," having lived in the same small town his entire life.  It had all seemed like a new, fun adventure at the time he applied, but as August 24th came closer and closer, he wondered what he'd gotten himself into.  His old school, where he also lived on-campus for the excitement of this "freedom", was only an hour drive from his house, his family, his childhood friends, and everything familiar to him.  He hadn't _needed_ to make new friends since...well, middle school.  Did he even know how?  What had he been thinking?  Even assuming he didn't have to live in the dorms this year, who would he have lived with?  Everyone else already had their group of friends, how was Michael supposed to find his place here?  And what about... 

 _Bzz-bzz_.  Michael's phone vibrated, a welcome distraction from the pit of despair he was slowly spiraling into.  He lifted his head from where it was pressed against the window of his mom's minivan, crammed full of boxes and luggage, and looked at the screen.  Facebook Messenger.

A few days after Luke had made contact with Michael, he had somehow tracked down their other suitemates, Calum Hood and Ashton Irwin, and created a group message for the four of them.  Michael had kept loose contact, still trying to pretend this wasn't happening, while the other boys made enthusiastic conversation.  Michael regretted not saying more, looking back, because he now realized that this _was_ happening no matter what, and he felt even more like an outsider.  

"Hey guys!  Looking forward to meeting you all today, it's gonna be a great year! :) " said the message, from Ashton.  Through his- mostly quiet- observation of the group chat, Michael had learned that Ashton was a senior, which made Michael feel a little better about being a sophomore.  Ashton was also the Residential Assistant for the whole floor, which basically meant that he would be playing the part of 'babysitter' for two dozen college students.  Michael didn't envy him for that.

"same here! i should be there in like 20 min!" Calum replied.  Calum, like Luke, was an incoming freshman.  He was on a full-ride soccer scholarship, but was actually going to school for a boring and adult-y career, like dentistry or something, in case his sports career didn't work out.

"im ~a half hour away as well, im so excited!!!!" Michael jumped in, definitely over-hyping his enthusiasm for the sake of seeming friendly.

"yeeeeeeeeew!!" Luke said, with that cheesy-toothy smiley emoji.  Michael had no fucking idea what that meant, but Luke had said it multiple times over the past few weeks and no one else seemed confused by it.

* * *

Michael and his parents were the last to arrive out of the four of them, though only behind Calum by a few minutes as predicted, around noon.  Luke had arrived earlier in the morning, and was currently helping Calum's family bring up boxes from their car, while Ashton had been staying in the room for a few weeks already, like the other RAs.

Crossing through the threshold of their twelfth-floor suite with his key, a cart full of junk, and high levels of stress, Michael's family was first greeted by Ashton, whose most noticeable features included his wide smile and crazy wavy hair.

"Hey, welcome Michael!" Ashton said, extending his hand to shake Michael's.  "You're in room A on the left, Luke's already got a bunch of his stuff moved in so you might've missed out on the fun of fighting over the bunks," Ashton gestured over his shoulder with his thumb and moved out of the way for the younger boy to move through the cramped hallway with his things.  "The bathroom is just through there," Ashton continued, pointing at a door parallel to the suite entrance, "and Calum and I are in room B on the right.  I'm the floor's Residential Assistant, Ashton, by the way," he finished, addressing Michael's parents this time.

"He's our dorm mom," a male voice said as the entry door opened again, revealing a tall boy mostly hidden by the stack of cardboard boxes he was juggling in his arms.  Michael moved into his own room with the cart so he wouldn't be blocking the entrance hallway, and re-emerged to see Calum, a tan-skinned, dark haired boy, entering with another pile of boxes, and the tall boy, which had apparently been Luke, judging by the quiffed blonde hair, disappearing into room B.

"I think that's everything!" Michael heard Calum grunt from the other room, dumping his stuff haphazardly all over the place and coming back into the hallway, "I'll organize it later.  Let's help Michael.  Hi Michael!" Calum waved with a big grin on his face.

"Hi Michael!" Luke echoed from behind Calum.  

"Hey guys," Michael said, giving them a wave and what he hoped was a decent smile, though his anxiety was through the roof so it probably wasn't very convincing.

"Did you park in the garage?" Calum asked, "I'm gonna go say bye to my parents and then I'll try to find your car and help grab some stuff with you."

"Yeah I am, and only if you want.." Michael replied.  Calum gave him a quick nod and hurried back down to find his parents, who were waiting in their own car.  Michael looked at Ashton, who gestured for him to lead the way, and then at Luke, who was just sort of watching him and fiddling with his lip ring between his teeth.  Michael looked away, and then headed back out the door.

* * *

With the four boys, plus Michael's parents, it only took two trips to bring everything up to the room.  And, after an embarrassingly teary goodbye to mom and dad until Thanksgiving, Michael was alone with his new suitemates in his new dorm for his new year and his new life and- he _really_ wanted a nap.  But that would probably be weird, and his bedding was still packed away anyway.  

Michael stood in his room with his hands on his hips, staring down at all the _stuff_ he was going to have to unpack and sighing audibly.  He felt a presence behind him, so he turned around, seeing Luke standing in the bedroom doorway.  He startled when Michael turned to face him, like he was just planning on standing there for a while and had been caught.  Luke looked down at his black-socked feet, which were awkwardly positioned with one foot stepping on the other, before looking back up and speaking.

"S- _so_ , you weren't here this morning when I moved in and I completely forgot to ask if you preferred the top or the bottom bunk and I figured, most people don't even like bunkbeds so I left the bottom bunk open for you, I hope that's okay," Luke said, scratching the back of his head and wearing an expression like he was face to face with a lion rather than Michael Clifford.  "Was that okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine, thanks for taking one for the team," Michael replied, smiling- probably awkwardly.

"Oh, I don't mind."

Luke continued to stand there and stare at Michael for a while longer, shifting his weight back and forth from his toes to his heels.  Being watched was making the already on-edge older boy even more stressed out.

"What?" Michael finally asked, probably sounding more rude than intended.

"Hmm?" Luke hummed.

"You're staring at me."

"Oh?  Oh!  Well.. your hair- your hair is blue," Luke said, nodding towards Michael's hair.  Michael looked at him quizzically.  

"Thanks, I didn't know that," he replied sarcastically.  Luke looked down and fiddled with the cuff of his black Nirvana t-shirt sleeve, pulling it back up to its intended height where it had fallen, before fully entering the room.

"Did you want any help unpacking?  I started unpacking with Calum but he's got this weird thing about people touching his stuff," the younger boy offered.  Michael considered it.  On one hand, he kind of wanted to be alone for a minute, but on the other, rejecting the offer would make things even more awkward.  He then wondered briefly if normal people had such internal conflicts when asked a simple question with a simple solution.

"Yeah, come on, I don't even know what's in half these boxes so you can just start opening whatever," Michael answered, waving him further into the room.

For a while there was a back and forth dialogue of "Where should I put this?" or "Where does this go?" with Michael replying with "Bathroom" or "Desk" or a grunt and gesture to 'over there', until Luke opened a cardboard box, which contained a shoebox, which contained not only a pair of shoes, but a red pencil pouch as well.

"Why's this in here?  Is it-" Luke started, beginning to unzip the pouch.

"Don't!" Michael exclaimed suddenly, whipping around at the sound, causing Luke to jump and practically throw the thing at the ground. "Shit!" He hurried over to close their bedroom door a little more than halfway and then picked the pouch off the floor, reaching inside and checking a colorful piece of glass for any breaks.

"Oh my god, is that-" Luke was cut off then, by Michael lunging for him, grabbing the front of his black shirt, and shushing him violently.

"Yes, it's my pipe, and I'm not going to smoke in the room, and you're not going to say anything about it, right?" Michael hissed, nearly nose to nose with the taller boy, knowing that only someone who was specifically _not cool_ with smoking pot would start yelling about a stupid pipe.  Luke looked at him with wide eyes and nodded, hands up in a placating position.  Michael let go, stepping back, and reached out to smooth the fabric of Luke's shirt where it had bunched around the shoulders and sighed, "I'm sorry.  I'm sorry, bad start.  I just, I know it makes people uncomfortable so you were never meant to see it, but sometimes I get stressed and the last thing I need right now is a ticket or to get kicked out, alright?"

"Yeah yeah, I don't have a problem with it, I was just- surprised, a little," Luke said, "It's fine.  Is there anything else...?"

"No, that's it, I was just hoping you'd see a shoebox and toss it under the bed.  I don't do, like, _drugs,_ " Michael snorted, zipping the pouch back up, stuffing it back into the shoebox and putting the shoebox as far underneath the bed as possible.

"Okay." Luke still looked unsure, but Michael attributed that to the fact that he had just been physically shaken by a stranger, though Michael knew he probably wouldn't have been able to topple the blonde boy if he tried.

"So... anyway, pretending that never happened, what are we supposed to be doing for this whole week before school starts?  Why did they have us move in an entire week early?" Michael asked, changing the subject.

"I'm not sure, they gave us a little packet full of 'welcome activities' but I'm sure Ashton will let us know what's actually worth going to."  Then, there were two short knocks on the doorframe and Calum invited himself in, plopping down on Michael's newly-made bed.

"Parties, brah!" he said in a mock-stereotypical fratboy voice, laughing, "They basically just gave us a week to turn up before we have to turn down for school.  By the way, Ashton just left to go to some RA meeting and he said that when he comes back, we'll have our 'introductory floor meeting' complete with 'fun icebreaker games'.  And free pizza.  So what's up in here?"  Luke looked at Michael for a bit, seeming to consider something, before replying.

"Did you know he has blue hair?" Luke asked, gesturing to Michael's head.


	3. Maybe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quality bonding time.

"So Ashton," Calum began, closing the door of the suite behind him as the four boys returned from their very first Official Floor Meeting, "How many of those rules actually apply to _us?_  You know, since you love us so much and want to be a cool mom."

All four of them converged in Calum and Ashton's bedroom, Luke carrying in his own blue beanbag chair and Michael perching on the edge of Calum's bed.  Calum sat down in his shiny new rolling desk chair, spinning around in circles while Ashton stopped in the doorway, folding his arms across his chest.

"All of them," Ashton replied, and, upon seeing Calum's pouty expression, added, "But I'm not a prick and I don't want any of you to get into trouble.  You're adults and this is college and I know things are going to happen.  Just don't let me _see_ you breaking any rules.  But when you do break the rules and need help, I'm there for you.  I'm here to be your friend too, not just your glorified camp counselor-slash-overbearing mother."

"But I shouldn't bother asking if you want to go to the party I heard about tomorrow night?" Calum asked, swiveling around in his chair so he was able to more clearly address Michael and Luke instead, "Apparently it's only going to be a few blocks away from the dorm, over on--"

"Wow, I sure would hate to find out the details of a college house party that's sure to be rife with underage drinking and possible drug use, that sounds like something I'd be forced to report if Calum kept speaking about it in front of me," Ashton interrupted loudly, bouncing down onto his own bed.  

"Okay, fine," Calum rolled his eyes, half-whispering, "I'll just text you about it," to Luke and Michael before shifting his chair back to a regular position.  Ashton nodded.

"Good idea.  Anyway, that was really the only obligation we had for the night, so if you three ducklings wanted to go down to the lobby and see what kind of wholesome late-night entertainment they've got in store for you, feel free," Ashton suggested.

"I'm actually kind of exhausted," Luke admitted, "I think I'm just gonna watch something on Netflix, if anyone wants to join me.  And if that's okay with Michael."

"Oh yeah, that's completely fine.  I'm a little tired too," Michael said nonchalantly, shrugging, though he was cheering internally at the suggestion to do something stress-free.

"Sounds good to me, the activities in the lobby seemed to consist of Bingo or... more Bingo," Calum agreed.

* * *

 

The four boys piled onto Michael's bed, which provided the perfect view of Luke's flat-screen TV he had set on his desk.  With their overflowing bowls of popcorn- freshly prepared in Michael's microwave, featuring a bright red sticker that said "MIKE-RO-WAVE" because he thought that would just be _so funny-_  and their gangling bodies, it took some physical adjustment and spillage of popcorn to find a position everyone would be comfortable in for what was sure to become a lengthy Netflix session.  It became a lot easier when they all laughingly realized they were...cuddly boys, for a lack of a better term, and let their limbs overlap each other without any feelings of awkwardness, Michael's back against Luke's side and his legs over Calum's, Calum's arms spread out over Michael and Ashton's shoulders, Luke's arm overlapping Calum's on top of Michael with his legs brought close against his own chest, Ashton tucked neatly into Calum's side with his legs hanging off the edge of the bed.

"We're like a puzzle," Luke said, grabbing the TV remote and pressing the Netflix button.

"Now nobody better have to go to the bathroom, you'll ruin everything we've built here," Michael said in reply.

Luke suggested watching _Mean Girls_ jokingly, and then hesitantly admitted it was actually one of his favorites when he was met with no opposition or snarky remarks.

"It doesn't look like it's on here, but _Mean Girls 2_ -" Ashton started.

" _No._ " Luke said sharply, then, with a sour expression, "That movie is a disgrace."

They ended up choosing a movie from the ' _related titles_ ' section called _Clueless_ , which Michael felt like he was enjoying way too much for a 1990's romantic comedy targeted at 14 year old girls.  

"I have to go the bathroom," Luke stated, after the movie was finished.  He was met with a collective groan as he forced himself out of his little corner of the bed, dislodging the rest of his roommates in the process.  Upon his return, they were forced to find a new position to dogpile into, which involved more of Luke practically draping himself over Michael.  He placed his elbow on top of Michael's shoulder and rested his head on his hand, fitting himself further into the corner of the bed and putting his feet on Michael's lap, legs folded and basically resting against Michael's chest.

This new position made Michael a little uncomfortable, admittedly, because he felt like this was something Luke should be doing with the giant penguin stuffed animal in the corner of the room, not someone he had just met.  Before, their cuddle pile had been more like a practical way to comfortably fit everyone onto the bed, but now it seemed Luke had become _too_ comfortable.  He opted not to say anything or move away, feeling as though that would make the situation at least a little awkward for everyone, rather than just dealing with it in silence.  It _was_ physically comfortable, Michael noted, even through his internal discomfort.  He let it slide.  It's not like Luke had some kind of insidious intent, he was sure.

The next batch of Netflix automatically-suggested films included more of the same genre, and the boys turned their heads and looked at one another, nodding solemnly in agreement as Luke pressed 'OK' on the 1999 film, _10 Things I Hate About You_.

* * *

 

Near the end of the movie, Michael's eyes were struggling to stay open.  No one else was falling asleep, and he _needed_ \- er, wanted- to see the ending.  Luke was like a heated blanket, his arm draped around Michael and his cheek against Michael's shoulder, though by this point he had stretched out his legs to cover both Michael and Calum's laps.  Throughout the movie, Michael had grown more accustomed to Luke's weight on him, thinking of him as a big puppy rather than a teen boy, which made him a lot less uncomfortable with the fact that he was practically a stranger.  

Michael shook his head, trying to physically remove his feelings of exhaustion.  He was able to make it through the final, crucial 20 minutes of the film, although with a lot of yawning and jerking himself awake, accidentally head-butting Luke a few times.

As the credits began to roll, Calum looked at his phone, which read 2:13 AM.

"I can't believe we spent the entire night watching 90's teen comedies.  And I loved every second of it," Calum said, swiping his hand over his forehead and down to his chin.

"Can this...can this be like...a thing?  Roommate 90's romantic comedy movie nights?  I honestly think this is an untapped valuable resource that we should take advantage of," Ashton said.  They all agreed, while Luke added more suggested movies to his personal Netflix list.

It had been really nice, Michael thought, after his initial feelings of anxiety had lowered to a manageable level.  He didn't feel like he belonged, yet, like the others seemed to so freely, since he still hadn't managed to force himself to contribute to most of their conversations, but he felt like he _could_ belong, and that meant a lot.  The voice in the back of his head told him there was no way this one day meant anything, and that the rest of the year was still sure to be as terrible as he imagined it would be, but he told that voice to shut up for now.

Ashton and Calum sprung themselves off of the bed, stretching and groaning from the long period of sitting still.

"I should probably go to bed.  Not that I have to do much work tomorrow, but y'know.  RA's shouldn't be waking up at 3 PM, it sets a bad example for the young'ins," Ashton mumbled, excusing himself to his room, Calum following shortly after.

Luke finally peeled himself off of Michael while the sound of vigorous tooth-brushing could be heard from the bathroom, stepping over to the closet and grabbing a pair of pajama pants, which he brought with him as he climbed up to his mattress on the top bunk.  Michael stood up to find pajamas of his own, and was promptly hit in the back of the head by a pair of black skinny jeans.

"Sorry!  I didn't see you get up!  I meant to throw them onto my desk chair!" Luke's voice called from above.  Michael laughed.

"It's fine.  Everything's fine."


	4. Let's Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fear of rejection.

 Michael was woken up at approximately 11:30 AM by a loud crash followed by a shriek.  The noise caused him to jump and fling himself awake, slamming his forehead into the metal frame of the top bunk, letting out a cry of his own.  

"What the  _fuck_?" Michael moaned, clutching the front of his head in his hands.  He heard something rustling off the side of his bed, and finally turned to investigate the cause of his awakening. 

It was Luke, tangled up in his own bed sheets, sitting up and looking at Michael with wide eyes and fast breath.  Michael scoffed, preparing to roll over and go back to sleep, until he realized Luke was supposed to be sleeping  _above_  Michael, not below him.  He turned back quickly, and saw that Luke hadn't moved.

"Did you just fall out of bed?" Michael asked, actually concerned, "Are you okay??"

Michael watched as Luke's terrified expression faltered into a nervous smile, and then, seeming to realize that he wasn't, in fact, dead, Luke's nose scrunched up, his eyes closed, and he threw his head back, laughing.  Luke's giggles were infectious, and by the time Ashton finally slammed his way into the bedroom ( _a terrible response time_ , Michael thought,  _someone could have died by now_ ) to investigate the crashing sound, he found both boys crying with laughter.  Michael was flopped halfway off the mattress, holding his stomach and laughing so hard he was shaking, while Luke was nearly soundless, aside from his quick, audible gasps, on the floor, clapping his hands like a sea lion at an aquarium show. 

* * *

Most of the day was spent following Ashton as he showed the three boys the area of the city near their dorm ( _residence hall_ , Ashton kept correcting them,  _we don't say dorms anymore_ ), having lunch at some shitty-looking, yet delicious, sandwich shop, exploring the streets, and stopping at Starbucks for an energy boost.  Michael decided to order last, experiencing a weird little feeling of anxiety over being judged about a fucking _coffee order_.  If any of them ordered a plain black coffee, it would have certainly meant that Michael would be teased for ordering a double chocolate chip frappuccino due to some strange notion that a drink could be considered "girly" or "immature".  But they didn't, and Michael was pleasantly surprised, and ordered his glorified chocolate shake in peace.

As  _little_  of a big deal that was, it made something in Michael's chest feel warm.  He hadn't heard one judgmental thing come out of any of his suitemates' mouths since he arrived, aside from the three of them giving Ashton shit for not playing video games, even FIFA.  Michael was actually beginning to believe he could be _himself_ around his roommates without them absolutely hating his fucking guts.

Ashton asked what their plans were for the evening, and Calum answered that he would be attending the party he mentioned the previous day, and that anyone was welcome to join him. 

“Well, I’m not allowed to go out and party, so I’ll be hanging around our floor, maybe playing a little bingo, having a big exciting night myself, but you guys can go have some fun.  But I have some conditions if you want to go without me lecturing you about alcohol and party safety,” Ashton said, pausing.  Michael rolled his eyes.  “Don’t give me that.  My conditions are, that you have to call me if you need anything, even if you think you’ll get in trouble.  And that goes for any situation.  The other condition is, you have to give me your phone numbers so I can personally check on you if you don’t come home for some reason.  Fair?”

“Super fair,” Calum agreed, Luke and Michael nodding along with him.  They passed their phones in a circle, exchanging numbers and creating a group iMessage for the four of them.  They fought over the title of the group chat, which Michael kept renaming “Balls” while the others brainstormed for a more serious and “cool” name for their new squad.

* * *

 

As evening approached, Michael noticed Luke becoming more quiet and withdrawn, which was strange.  He replayed the day’s events in his mind, unable to find any reason why Luke would have gotten offended or upset about any of the topics they had spoken about.  Odd.  Whatever, he'd snap out of it, Michael was sure.  Calum suggested they leave the dorm ( _residence hall!!_ ) at 8 PM, so Michael decided to take a quick shower before then.

Walking back into the bedroom he shared with Luke, toweling the last of the dampness from his Smurf-colored hair, Michael noticed that the blonde boy was sprawled out on the bottom bunk on his stomach, scrolling down his Facebook newsfeed on a laptop, wearing… _pajamas?_

“I didn’t take _that_ long in the shower, did I?” Michael joked sheepishly.  He glanced at the clock, making sure he hadn’t somehow missed their planned departure time.  No, it was still only 7:37 PM.  “I’m confused.”

“I dunno if I’m gonna go,” Luke said quietly, not looking up from the computer screen.

“What?” Michael asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I think I might just stay here instead.” Luke replied, a little louder, turning to face Michael.

“No, I heard what you said.  But why?” Michael pressed.

“I dunno…I’m not really into that kind of thing.” Luke mumbled, looking down at the sheets, taking his lip ring between his teeth.

“Into what?  Fun?” Michael was really confused.  Luke had seemed completely fine and willing to participate before, what changed in, literally, the last 20 minutes?

“ _No_ ,” Luke glared up at Michael, “I just…”

“…Don’t drink.” Michael finished, things finally clicking into place.

“Yeah.” Luke admitted, “…Or go to parties.”

“But have you ever…?” 

“Once.” Luke answered shortly, looking away again.

“And?” Michael asked, pushing for some sort of explanation.

“And nothing, I just don’t like it, okay?” Luke snapped, voice shaking slightly.

Michael stopped, assessing the situation.  The younger boy’s face was turning pink, he looked flustered, and with the way his voice sounded, Michael thought it was safe to assume that Luke was one of those people who tears up involuntarily when frustrated, and he definitely did not want to be the cause of any angry crying in the dorm.  He decided to take a different approach.

“But…you don’t have to drink.  I probably won’t drink that much,” The older boy tried.  He didn’t know why he was trying so hard to convince Luke to come.  Michael thought he could handle being alone with Calum just fine, he didn’t _need_ a third person as a conversation crutch, really.  Luke didn’t say anything. “You should really come.  It’ll be fun, I promise.  Whatever party you went to was probably a shitty high school basement party, and this can be like a fun field trip into a college movie scene.”

“I dunno.” Luke shrugged.

 _‘One more try,’_ Michael thought, ‘ _and then I’ll give up.’_

“If you don’t like it, we can both leave, no questions asked.  I want you to come.  Please.” Michael finished, nearly holding his breath in anticipation for Luke’s rejection.  Oh.  So that’s why he wanted Luke to say ‘yes’ so badly.  Michael had nearly forgotten he was terrified of rejection.  Glad to get that emotion sorted out.

He watched Luke chew on his own bottom lip for a few more moments, before finally looking back up and shrugging a shoulder.

“Is that a yes?” Michael asked, hopeful.

“Sure.” Luke answered quietly, “But only if you mean it.  That we can leave when I want.”

“Yes!  Good!  Okay!” Michael smiled enthusiastically, kneeling down and picking up the pair of impossibly tight black jeans that Luke had dropped on the floor, tossing the jeans at Luke’s face, “Now get dressed you fucking slob.  You have 6 minutes before Calum comes in here yelling about being on-schedule.” Luke didn’t move at first, looking down at the pants now in his hands, only snapping back to attention when Michael clapped close to his face, “Let’s go let’s go let’s go!” Luke slapped at Michael’s too-close hands, finally smiling a little and moving to get dressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully the next chapter will be able to be posted sooner (I know I've been doing updates like every...10 days or something but I want to go faster) because this was just kind of an in-between chapter. I just kind of wanted to stay consistent with length so I didn't want to post the whole thing in one chapter. Thanks for the kudos btw!


	5. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael drinks a little too much. Just a little.

“Holy shit, there should _not_ be this many people in this tiny house,” Michael nearly had to shout over the noise, “Calum, you better not have brought us to the first house party of the year where the cops show up.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Calum replied, laughing, “We all have our running shoes on if things get hairy.”

The three boys pushed their way into the kitchen, where it was significantly quieter, away from the loud music and periodic outbursts of shouting and laughter.   Michael visually scanned the room before approaching the bottles of liquor on the counter, grabbing three red cups for the group.

“I said I don’t drink,” Luke reminded him, crossing his arms.  Michael nodded.

“Yeah, but it’s a good idea to be holding a cup anyway, then if someone asks you to do shots, you can just tell them you already have a drink.  The stereotypical ‘ _hey come on man, just have a few shots_ ’ peer pressure is mostly Hollywood movie bullshit because no one actually wants you to drink their alcohol or smoke all their shit for free, but it still feels reassuring to have a crutch, in my opinion,” he explained, turning his back towards Luke to face the counter, “I’ll just pour you a soda.”

“Okay,” Luke replied.  After a few moments, Michael turned back to face Luke and held out a cup filled with what appeared to be Coke.

“This one’s for you,” Michael said.  The younger boy reached out to take the drink, but when his fingers brushed the red plastic of the cup, Michael jerked it away, nearly splashing the liquid over his own hand.  Luke jumped, snatching his hand back in surprise.

“Wh--”

“ _Wrong_!” Michael shouted, pointing a finger in Luke’s face, “That’s my drink, there’s a shitload of rum in it.  Don’t _ever_ let someone just _hand_ you a drink that you didn’t watch them make!  You just met me yesterday and have no idea what kind of psycho I am, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Michael flicked the bill of Luke’s maroon snapback, causing the blonde to scowl half-heartedly and flip the hat around, opting to wear it backwards instead.

“It’s true, I definitely would’ve thought it was at least a little funny if he hadn’t told you,” Calum said, pouring a drink for himself, “Although you probably would have noticed it tasted like shit after the first sip.”

“Was this demonstration meant to give me genuine advice?  Because now I’m kind of wondering if I should trust you guys…” Luke replied, but with a wry smile.  He grabbed the third cup and filled it with soda, taking Michael’s advice.

“Hey, I’m just trying to save your life.  You could be a little more appreciative,” Michael joked, shaking his head and making his way back out of the kitchen, Calum and Luke following him into the living room.

* * *

 

 

Four drinks in.  Michael was feeling good.  He knew he would have to stop drinking soon, even though it was still early.  He felt great, but it would be totally embarrassing to miscalculate how many drinks were too many and end up needing his new roommates to take care of him.  He _was_ pretty drunk right then, but Luke showed no signs of being annoyed or wanting to go home.  Luke seemed to find the intoxicated party guests amusing, at least for the time being.

While Calum was off somewhere being a social butterfly, Michael and Luke were seated next to each other on a couch in the basement.  They were still being social, of course, but they were both more of the type of people to stay in one space and let the conversations come to them, whereas Calum had taken a more proactive approach by throwing himself directly into the thick of the party.

Michael was suddenly struck by an unexpected pang of jealousy when a drunk girl recited her phone number for Luke to program into his contact list.  That had already happened a few times that night.  _Typical.  Just so fucking typ—_

‘ _Stop it,_ ’ Michael told himself, ‘ _Don’t be weird._ ’ He felt words trying to bubble out of his throat, and he tried to stop them, knowing he’d say something mean, or awkward, or sad, now that his happy drunkenness had been infected by a negative emotion. ‘ _Don’t say it.  No no no no nonono—_ ‘

“I haven’t gotten any phone numbers tonight,” Michael blurted out bitterly.  _Fuck_.  He already knew that Luke wasn’t really going to hook up with a random drunk person while completely sober, and that he, himself, hadn’t even been attempting to flirt with anyone, but his brain was too fuzzy to contemplate a rational thought like that.

Luke glanced at him, looking a little surprised.  He shrugged and shifted in his seat, fitting his phone back into the front pocket of his jeans.

“They’re drunk, they don’t know what they’re doing,” Luke replied.  “I haven’t even taken any of their numbers—I know it’s an asshole move but—I’ve just been pretending to type them in, so they stop asking for mine.”

Now Michael was just feeling pouty and stupid.  He had to go somewhere else before he accidentally escalated the exchange into an _issue_.

“I’m gonna make myself another drink,” Michael announced, standing up.  Luke moved to stand up as well, but Michael waved him off, saying, “You can stay there.  I’ll be back.”

* * *

 

 

Three shots later, Michael was doing fine again.  He was glad, because usually drinking _more_ after feeling _bad_ ended up being a _terrible_ idea, but this time it made him giggly and warm, and a little sleepy.  It also left him clumsy, confused, and with slurred speech.

After wandering around the house for an unknown period of time, Michael finally located Luke once more.  He had moved from the basement into the living room, sitting in an armchair and scrolling down the screen of his phone, only occasionally adding to the conversation around him.

“Luuuuke,” Michael said with a grin, sitting down—well, more like falling—on the empty space on the floor next to Luke’s chair.  Luke turned off his phone and looked down at Michael.

“Michael,” Luke greeted, and then, “Are you okay?  How much did you drink?  Your face is _so_ red.”

In reply, Michael started laughing, and then put a finger to his lips, saying, “Shhhhhh.”

“Oh,” Luke said, with a concerned frown.

“Can we go for a walk?  I really wanna go outside, it’s so nice out.  We should go for a waaalk,” The older boy stumbled through his words, standing up _(finally, after about three tries)_.  He tugged on Luke’s arm.  Luke let himself be pulled to his feet.

“I don’t think we should do that.  We can go out on the back porch, if you want, though,” Luke suggested.  Michael nodded enthusiastically, his blue hair flopping up and down.

“Yesyesyes.”

* * *

 

 

The air outside was chilly, considering it was only the end of August.  Luke and Michael stepped into the small backyard-- more like an alleyway, really-- finding it empty of cigarette smokers or plain old passed out individuals.

“Hey.  Hey, Luke?” Michael asked, after the pair had settled themselves down in two of the folding lawn chairs on the gravel makeshift patio, “Luke?”

“Yeah?”

“D’you think I’m weird?” Michael asked.

“Not— _bad_ weird,” Luke answered, “Why?”

“But still weird?”

“We’re all weird, we spent our first night at college watching romcoms from the 90s,” Luke joked, “I’ve only just met all of you, but I think our suite as a whole is probably good-weird.”

“I thought you’d be a dick,” Michael admitted, looking embarrassed.  Luke looked surprised.

“Why?” Luke asked.

“Well… I dunno, I just didn’t think it’d work.  I figured it’d be like last year and no one would like me and I wouldn’t have any friends and I’d be miserable and wanna die and...  But you’re nice.  And Calum’s nice.  And Ashton’s nice.  And you’re nice.” 

“Thanks,” Luke replied, smiling warmly.

“Am I too drunk?” Michael asked, covering his face with his hands, “Oh my god, I’m so embarrassing, I’m sorry, that was a weird thing to say, _ahhh_ —“

“It’s fine.  You’re not an annoying drunk, and you didn’t throw up on my shoes.  That’s all I can ask for.”

“That’s so nice.  I think you’re nice.  You’re so cute,” Michael said, reaching out to pinch Luke’s cheek.  Luke allowed it, scrunching up his face. “I wanna be friends,” Michael added.

“We can be friends,” Luke agreed, laughing softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks!


	6. Awkward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh.

_Bzzz._  A text in their group iMessage (still titled ‘ _Balls_ ’, courtesy of Michael) from Ashton, at 3:14 AM. 

_“You guys still alive out there?”_ it read.

The three boys had stopped at a nearby 24-hour diner to grab some coffee that was meant to help Calum and Michael sober up before they went home for the night, not wanting to be _too_ obviously intoxicated in front of the security monitors at the entrance of the residence hall.  Breakfast had sounded amazing too, so they each had a pile of food in front of them as well.

Michael tried to respond to Ashton’s text, tried to say _“We’ll be on our way home soon”_ but it kept coming out as _“we’erg;kjk jon hfr jo,e soon”_ and similar mangled formations.  Luke watched him struggle to type over his shoulder.

“Dunno if you should answer that one, Mikey.  I’ll tell him where we are,” Luke suggested, pulling out his own phone and typing in a quick message that read, _“we’re getting coffee, omw back in a bit :-)”_.

“Did you put ketchup on your eggs?” Calum asked, pointing at Luke’s plate of scrambled eggs and toast with his fork.

“Yeah?” Luke replied, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s awful.  That’s absolutely horrific.  I don’t know if we can live together after this…” Calum said, making an exaggeratedly disgusted expression.

“I didn’t know I came out tonight to be crucified for my breakfast choices, Mr. _Putting-Syrup-On-His-Bacon_ ,” The blonde retorted, shoving a huge forkful of the eggs ( _with ketchup!_ ) into his mouth.

“Hey!  That’s an all-American breakfast classic!  Tell him Michael!” Calum looked to Michael for support.

Michael opened his mouth to answer, but accidentally spat out a puff of whipped cream and chewed up chocolate chip pancakes instead, having been stuffing his face full of the combination throughout Calum and Luke’s exchange.  He slapped his hand over his mouth, wide eyed, until he saw the other boys’ expressions crinkle into laughter, disrupting the quiet of the diner as the three boys were thrown into a fit of hysterics.

* * *

 

Somewhere around 2 PM the next day, Michael forced his eyes open to the sound of music playing softly approximately 4 feet over his head, although to his hungover brain it sounded entirely _too loud_.  He groaned, burrowing deeper into his self-made burrito of blankets, and was about to shout at Luke to _put in some motherfucking headphones_ , before realizing that he recognized the song that was playing.

“Luke?” He croaked.  _Goddamn, he needed water_.  But he didn’t know if he’d be able to bring himself to get out of bed anytime soon.  The music stopped.

“Yeah?  Did I wake you up?  I’m sorry—“ said a voice from above him.

“You like Blink-182?” Michael interrupted.

“Oh.  Yes!  They’re one of my favorite bands.” The voice answered.

“I didn’t know that,” Michael said.  He closed his eyes, and his head spun. ‘ _Don’t throw up, don’t throw up, don’t throw up—'_ , he thought, and then, to distract himself from his sudden nausea, asked, “So, who else do you like?”

“Errr, other pop-punk kinda stuff, like Good Charlotte, All Time Low, Green Day, that sort of thing,” Luke answered.

“That’s interesting, that’s good.  Well,” Michael slowly rolled out of his bed and stood, bracing himself against the bedframe for a moment, “I think…I’m gonna go throw up now, and then I’m gonna brush my teeth, and then I’m gonna drink water, and then I might throw up some more, and then I’ll come back and we can talk about music some more.”

“Oh…okay.  Do you need help?” Luke asked, peering over the edge of his bunk at his roommate.

“Help?”

“Uhh, help…throwing up?  I don’t know, I just thought I’d ask,” He offered awkwardly, “Never mind, that’s weird.”

“If you want to help, you could leave a big-ass cup of water outside the bathroom door.  But actually, don’t, because then you’ll hear me barfing and that’s gross,” Michael paused, then his face suddenly went pale, and he hurried out the door, saying, “Gotta go.”

* * *

 

When Michael emerged from the bathroom, he nearly stumbled over the large glass of water that had been set right outside the door, with a yellow post-it note that had _“Mikey :-)”_ scrawled on it.  He crumpled the post-it note in his hand and shoved it in his pocket, picking up the cup and sipping from it as he re-entered his room, where Luke was laying in his own bunk, the same as before, but the music was turned to an almost undetectable volume. 

Luke barely glanced at Michael when he entered, continuing the conversation as if Michael hadn’t just spent the last 20 minutes messily puking his guts out in their tiny, shared bathroom.

“So, like I was saying, I like bands like Fall Out Boy and Sleeping With Sirens and stuff,” Luke said.

“My Chemical Romance?” Michael asked.

“Yup.  Foo Fighters?” Luke countered.

“Yup. Simple Plan?” This back-and-forth went on for a while, until Luke admitted that he played guitar, and that he used to post shitty covers of songs on Youtube.

“Really?  Me too!  Well, not the Youtube part, which I’ve gotta see, but I play guitar.  I didn’t bring mine though, because I figured no one wants to room with _that guy_ , you know?” Michael said.

Luke giggled, “That’s exactly why I didn’t bring mine either.” They then concocted a plan to both bring their guitars from home during the next holiday break, which was most likely Thanksgiving.

* * *

 

“So, about those shitty Youtube covers…you can’t just bring something like that up around me and not follow through,” Michael said suggestively.  Luke rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know if you’re ready to see that side of me.”

“Come on!  I love embarrassing shit!  I’ll show you all my old Myspace selfies in exchange for it, this is a once-in-a-lifetime roommate bonding activity!” Michael nearly shouted, seeming way too enthusiastic about the whole thing.  Luke considered it, biting his lower lip. “Come _onnn_ ,” Michael whined.

“Fine.  But don’t show anyone else,” Luke sighed, pulling up a new tab on his laptop screen, “Come up here.”

“Yes!!” Michael clapped his hands together excitedly before climbing up to the top bunk and flopping himself down on his stomach next to Luke.  He laughed aloud at the Youtube channel before him, “You said you ’ _used to_ ’ post covers?  This one’s from like last week!”

Luke shoved him in the shoulder playfully, and laughed, “It’s from over a year ago, shut up.”

They watched a couple of the videos, Luke’s face turning more and more pink with every second, but still in good humor, laughing every time he heard his own voice crack or saw his embarrassing 14-year-old haircut or outfits.

“Oooh, this one has like 20,000 views and a bunch of thumbs-downs, let’s watch that one,” Michael said, pointing at the icon on the screen.  Luke hesitated.

“Uh-- I—“ Luke stuttered.

Michael pushed Luke’s hands away from the laptop’s trackpad and took control, clicking on the most recent one, from about a year and a half earlier.  Luke didn’t react during the video, taking out his phone and scrolling through it instead of watching, though his face continued to redden.  When it was over, Michael was puzzled.

“That was actually pretty good, why all the dislikes?” He asked, frowning.

“I dunno,” Luke muttered.

“Well, what do the comments say—“ Michael questioned, scrolling down to read the feedback.  Luke sprang to action, nearly throwing his phone in an effort to stop him, but it was too late—Michael was staring at a string of comments that were straight out of a _Lifetime_ movie on cyberbullying, and was reading, slack-jawed, some of the most awful, homophobic, terrible things he’d seen directed at _someone he actually knew_ , before Luke snapped his laptop shut, nearly catching Michael’s fingers.

“ _Sorry_ ,” Luke said, voice tight, “I don’t want to watch any more videos.”

“I—wha—why?”

“Most people at my school didn’t like me.  That’s all,” Luke half-answered one of the million questions floating around in Michael’s head, tense.

“I’m sorry,” Michael breathed, shocked.

“Stop.”

“No, I’m _really_ —“

“ _Stop_.”

Michael was still for a while, before slowly removing himself from Luke’s bunk, climbing down and rummaging around under his bed.  The air was thick with a tense silence until Michael decided it would be best to respect Luke’s wishes of not speaking about whatever  _that_ was, and plopped down on his lower bunk, sitting up and opening his own laptop screen.

“Well, get down here if you want to see those hideous middle school pictures of me,” Michael called, voice as cheerful as he could make it.  There were a few quiet moments, where Michael chewed the side of his cheek nervously, before the upper bunk creaked and Luke climbed down, joining Michael, who breathed a silent sigh of relief.

Luke perched, curled up, slightly behind Michael, looking at the laptop screen with his chin digging into Michael’s shoulder.  It kind of hurt, but Michael sure as fuck wasn’t going to say anything about it. 

While Michael clicked through the first few pictures, Luke was quiet, Michael making conversational comments like, “Oh this one’s from 9th grade,” or “That was from a field trip where I peed my pants in front of everyone.”

Finally, _finally_ , Luke’s eyes crinkled into a smile at one of Michael’s middle school photos, his hair fried beyond belief, obviously just having learned what a hair straightener was and probably having heard a Fall Out Boy song for the first time by the looks of his outfit and eyeliner.  Michael had a stupid smirk in the photo, like he thought he looked like the coolest motherfucker alive.

“God—you’re-- you were so fucking _awkward_ ,” Luke laughed in Michael’s ear, squeezing his shoulder.

“Something I haven’t managed to grow out of yet,” Michael smiled, moving onto the next, and possibly even _worse_ , photo of himself, in which apparently his past self had just discovered the peace sign and duck face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I'm updating like 2 days after the last chapter...I would say I'm on a roll, but if I said that I would probably find myself off my roll so...  
> Thanks for reading as always!


	7. Schedules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First day of class.

**_“When I was, a young boy, my father, took me into—“_ **

Michael’s eyes snapped open upon the first note of the My Chemical Romance song, which served as his alarm, waking him up for the first day of the fall semester. 

“Noooo….” He groaned aloud, covering his face with his hands and rolling around on his mattress miserably.  Normally, Michael would never, _never_ agree to take a class at 8 o'clock in the fucking morning, but the fucking class wasn’t available at any other time that _he_ was available, and he couldn’t afford to put off any of his general-education classes.  Math 104.  How the fuck was he supposed to do math when he was so goddamn _exhausted_?

Seconds later, the familiar “ _Marimba_ ” iPhone ringtone sounded, and he heard the mattress above him begin to shift.  Michael heard a soft sigh, and then saw Luke’s bare feet swing over the edge of the top bunk.

Luke climbed down from his bed, and, once his feet were safely on the solid ground, stretched his arms all the way over his head and let out a squeaky yawn, his shirt riding up a few inches, exposing part of his stomach and the waistband of his _Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle_ boxer-briefs.

 _‘Yeah, yeah, we get it, you’re **adorable** ,’_ Michael thought, rolling his eyes inwardly.  He groaned, again, and sat up.

“Luke?  Why are you awake?” Michael asked.  Luke stopped his movement, arms still outstretched above him, and cracked his eyes open at the other boy.

“Hmm?  I have math at eight,” Luke mumbled, balling his hands into fists and scrubbing at his eyes.  Michael blinked.  He couldn’t believe they hadn’t compared schedules!  He had just assumed they wouldn’t be in any of the same classes, with Luke majoring in accounting and Michael working to become a professional guitar teacher.

“Are you in Math 104?” Michael asked, just to be sure.

“Mhmm,” He hummed in reply, picking around the piles of clothes in the room to find something clean to wear, settling on a plain black t-shirt and skinny jeans with two perfectly round holes in the knees.  He also picked up something that was distinctly _not_ his, and displayed it for Michael, “Can I wear this?  I didn’t realize it was gonna be cold this early in the year so my mom still has to send me most of my sweaters and stuff from home…” Luke said sheepishly.  It was Michael’s black Blink-182 hoodie.  Michael considered it for a moment.  Would it be weird…?

“Just…don’t lose it.  Or ruin it.  Or whatever,” Michael conceded, throwing his legs off the side of his mattress, preparing to find his own outfit.  He’d also probably opt for something comfortable over stylish—it was too early, and he had no one he was trying to impress.  Luke flashed him a grin, gave him a quick nod, and scurried off to the bathroom with his armful of clothes.

* * *

 

Michael tried to stifle his yawns, his elbows resting on the desk in front of him and his head in his hands.  Beside him, Luke sat, alert for the most part, but definitely with an aura of _sleepy boy_ about him.  Michael knew Luke wasn’t a morning person either, by any means, but he was likely energized by the excitement of the first day of college.

The professor was only just going over the syllabus—the basic outline of the class, his expectations and grading scale, et cetera—yet Michael was already on the verge of dozing off.  There was no telling what would happen when they _actually_ started getting into the lessons, and Michael decided he would just cross that bridge when he came to it.  Luke had spoken about actually _enjoying_ math, while Michael detested it and had barely passed this class the previous semester, so maybe Luke would be able to stay awake for the entire class period and could just stab Michael with a pencil whenever he noticed the older boy’s head start to droop.

Eventually, blessedly, the class ended (and a half hour early!), which meant Michael had a little over three hours until his next class, which meant a trip to Nap City back in his bed, probably still warm from the previous night.  Thank god for the built-in naptimes in his schedule.

Michael looked over at Luke, who was checking his own school schedule on his phone. 

“What else you got today?  I have a break, then ‘Classical Music Appreciation,’ then another break, then some biology class to fulfill my science requirement,” Michael asked, peering over Luke’s shoulder at the small screen.

“I think I just had this class, and then I have a break, and then- ahh, er, Yoga 101.  For my art requirement.  And that’ll be it for today.  I’m busier on Mondays and Wednesdays,” Luke replied, looking a little embarrassed.  Michael assumed it was because of the yoga thing, but Michael certainly wasn’t the type to be defensive about maintaining typical standards of masculinity.

“You free at…” Michael did the math in his head, “Say, two o’clock?  We can grab some shitty cardboard café pizza for lunch,” he suggested.  Luke nodded enthusiastically, smiling.

“It’s a date,” Luke replied, and then hesitated, “Not—not really—not a _date_ \--“ 

“Luke,” Michael interrupted, confused, “I know what you meant.”

“’Kay,” Luke said, giving a thin-lipped smile and rocking his weight back and forth from his toes to his heels, glancing around the area, but not at Michael. 

“Hmm.  Well, anyway, are you coming back to the room?  I’m gonna take a nap,” Michael said, suddenly repressing the urge to yawn, as if on cue.  Without waiting for an answer, he turned and began walking in the direction of the residence hall, with Luke quickly deciding to trot after him, his long legs easily keeping pace with Michael.

* * *

 

“So how was school today, children?” Ashton asked as the four boys gathered in the floor kitchen for dinner, courtesy of Ashton himself.  When asked about his major, Ashton had described it as ‘a little of this, a little of that,’ which, Michael came to find out, meant that the older boy’s career path was leading him into becoming a high school counselor, but Ashton was also filling his schedule with other, seemingly random, courses, like anthropology, personal fitness, and environmental conservation, to name a few.  Thus, Ashton had come to make the boys a healthy dinner, consisting of some kind of deliciously seasoned chicken-rice-broccoli-mixed-vegetable medley, combining elements from his culinary arts class with his nutritional health class.

“Not too bad, actually,” Calum replied, “It’s a lot easier to get up and go to class when it starts at noon.”

“Bastard,” Michael commented around a mouthful of food, “I was up at seven this morning.  _Seven_!”

“Hey, at least you get weekends to sleep in.  I have soccer practice every Saturday and Sunday morning.  The only chance I get to turn up on the weekends is on Thirsty Thursdays, when only the sloppiest people are out,” Calum said, sticking his tongue out.

“I don’t have class on Fridays, I’ll come out with you,” Michael suggested.

“Yeah, you were pretty damn sloppy last week, remember?” Calum joked, laughing.

“To be fair, that was a Tuesday night.  Tuesdays are definitely destined to be messier than Thursdays,” Michael countered, grinning.

“All right, all right, I asked about school, not your little _hooligan activities_ ,” Ashton crossed his arms over his chest, but spoke lightheartedly.  Being a senior, he had definitely indulged in _the forbidden liquid_ himself, and had even shared some of his own stories with the boys, but upheld his duty to be a mentor figure to his residents, especially in a public setting, like the kitchen they were currently occupying.

“Yoga was fun,” Luke interjected, pushing a piece of broccoli across his plate with a fork.

“Yoga?  How’d you end up in that class?” Calum giggled.  Luke shrugged.

“Glad to hear it!  I personally loved yoga, it was really a great stress reliever,” Ashton beamed.

“Are there any classes you _haven’t_ taken?” Michael asked, genuinely confused as to how Ashton was able to give feedback on every single class he, and his suitemates, had mentioned so far.  Ashton tapped his chin and looked towards the ceiling, as if the answer would be written there.

“Actually, I don’t think I’ve taken that course on the history of vampires and our modern world.  But it’s on my list!” He answered after a few moments.

“ _Of course_ it is,” Michael replied exasperatedly.


	8. Centipede

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Movie night part two.

_“WOOOOOOOO!!!”_ Calum hollered, bursting through the suite door, barging into Michael and Luke’s bedroom, and throwing his backpack violently to the floor. 

“WOOOOOOOOO!!!” He repeated, pumping his fists in the air, as Luke and Michael turned from their respective desks, and Ashton looked up from where he was lounging on Michael’s mattress, to stare at Calum questioningly. “I had no idea if you guys were home or not, but I’m glad you’re actually in here because I would’ve felt like an idiot otherwise.”

“You _look_ like an idiot anyway,” Michael said sarcastically, “What are you cheering for?”

“It’s Thursday!  It’s the weekend!  We made it a whole week without dying!” Calum explained excitedly, stretching his arms outward.  Ashton gasped loudly, which made everyone jump.

“What’s wrong?” Luke asked, worried, “Did you see the centipede I lost earlier?”

“A whole week!  And I’m still alive?  I…I can’t believe it!  This is brand new to me… I’m so proud of you kids,” Ashton joked, wiping a fake tear from his eye.  The boys laughed, except for Michael.  He had something more serious on his mind.

“Luke, did you just say you lost a centipede in my bed?” Michael asked.

“What?  No, I didn’t say anything about a centipede.  Bye,” Luke replied, turning around in his chair and putting his earbuds back in so he wouldn’t hear Michael shouting at him about the _demon_ he allowed to invade their home.

* * *

 

“So…movie night, anyone?” Michael suggested, over Starbucks that evening.

“Can’t, one of the guys from soccer is having a get-together at like nine tonight and I figured I should go.  You know, team-building and all that,” Calum replied apathetically, taking a sip of his latte.

“Oh cheer up, I’m pretty sure you’re not going to be doing team-building exercises at party time on the first day of the first weekend of the year,” Ashton said, nudging him, “But I’m down for a movie night, Michael.  Luke?”

“Always,” Luke nodded enthusiastically, mouth full of blueberry bagel and cream cheese.

* * *

 

 _“Ladies and gentlemen,”_ Luke started, doing his best impression of a 1950’s television announcer, “Tonight’s feature film is a charming story from the year nineteen-ninety-nine, starring teen heartthrob Freddie Prinze Jr.  You will laugh, you will cry, you will—“

“Start the fucking movie?” Michael interrupted, Ashton snickering next to him.  Luke rolled his eyes.

“Okay, no fun allowed, I see how it is,” Luke replied, pressing the “OK” button on the TV remote to begin their viewing of _She’s All That_.  He settled back on the bed, shoulder-to-shoulder with Michael, who had burrito-ed himself into his fluffy duvet, “You look cuddly.”

“I suppose I am,” Michael conceded, tipping his head a little to look up at Luke.

“Can I come in?” Luke asked, his fingertips tugging on the edge of the blanket lightly. 

There were other blankets on the bed, not counting Luke’s own blankets on the bunk above, but over the past two weeks, Michael had come to embrace the fact that this was just something that was going to happen.  Luke was clearly a physically affectionate person, and Michael was as well, although on a more low-key level.  Most people just assumed from Michael’s appearance that he was too prickly and wouldn’t enjoy a good cuddle, but Michael was secretly glad that Luke took the initiative, now that they had grown relatively close in the short amount of time they had known each other and became comfortable.  However, he still had his hardened-heartless-badass reputation to maintain, so he had to pretend to be at least slightly annoyed each time.

Michael sighed heavily, opening the blanket so Luke could worm his way in, curling neatly into a ball at the older boy’s side and resting his head on Michael’s shoulder, “Ashton?  You want in?” He asked.

“You know I don’t do that group cuddle thing.  That’s an activity reserved just for you, Luke, and Calum, if he so chooses,” Ashton replied pleasantly, waving him off.  Michael knew he would say that sort of thing, but continued to invite him anyway out of politeness.  And, if he didn’t ask, he felt like Luke cuddling him became somehow too-intimate and personal, and he didn’t want to deal with thinking of it _that way_.

Of course, trying to purposely not think of it _that way_ made Michael think of it _that way_ , and then Luke’s arms wrapped around Michael’s torso, hands clasped together near Michael’s hip, holding onto him like he was a giant teddy bear.  _That_ hadn’t happened before.  He looked down at the blonde, who said nothing, eyes clearly focused on the TV screen in front of them.

Michael’s face felt warm, but he thought he might as well roll with it, deciding it was fine.  And comfortable, anyway.

* * *

 

The three boys made it through the movie, and thankfully Freddie Prinze Jr. won the girl at the end, but they decided that, even though it was now the weekend and they had no morning obligations, they were all rather tired from having woken up early that morning, and opted not to turn on another movie, knowing they would likely just fall asleep halfway through it.  Instead, it was decided that it was a good opportunity to start binge-watching _Friends_ , and so the first episode was turned on.

Somewhere after the second episode, however, Michael had accidentally fallen asleep, only waking an undetermined amount of time later to the _“Are you still watching Friends?”_ pop-up screen on Netflix.  Ashton was gone, having left to go to bed shortly after the blue-haired boy had dozed off, noting that he would suffer the same fate himself if he stayed much longer. 

Michael felt Luke’s hot breath against his shoulder, and a wet spot where Luke had apparently been drooling as he slept against the older boy’s shirt.  Luke’s right hand was loosely curled around Michael’s waist, the other limp over his thighs.  Michael’s neck ached from the lack of pillow support, and he needed to get into a real, comfortable sleeping position, like, _now_.  He nudged the top of Luke’s head with his nose.

“Luke.” Michael said gently.

 _“Mmmmm,”_ Luke groaned, not moving.

“Luke.” Michael repeated, more clearly.  Luke still didn’t move.  Michael sighed, snapping his fingers in front of the younger boy’s face, “Luke!” 

“God dammit,” Michael mumbled.  He cleared his throat and sat up straighter, before nearly shouting, _“Luke!  Wake the fuck up and go to bed!”_

Luke startled awake, nearly head-butting Michael in the nose as he jerked upright.  His surprise turned to sheepishness as he noticed the spit on the older boy’s shoulder.  He rubbed the back of his own neck, smiling embarrassedly, “S-sorry.  I didn’t know I drooled when I sleep.”

“Yeah.  Neither did I.  Now, get in your own bed and go the fuck to sleep.” Michael ordered, pushing Luke into more of a sitting position.  Luke frowned slightly, but rolled off the bed, standing up, before embarking on the climb to his own bunk.

“Sorry,” he repeated.

“It’s fine.” Michael yawned, stretching into a comfy position and preparing to go to real sleep.  But as soon as he closed his eyes, he heard the bed above him creak, and felt like someone was watching him.  Michael opened his eyes again to see Luke hanging over the edge of the bed to look at him, upside down.  Slightly startled, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I just remembered the centipede is still in our room and I’m worried,” Luke admitted.

“Well, you shouldn’t have fucking lost it, it’s probably crawling around in our sheets right now, dumbass,” Michael grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“It was on the ceiling, I couldn’t reach it to kill it,” Luke complained.

“Then you should have kept an eye on it until it crawled somewhere you could reach, and then smashed the fucker to death.”

“I _did_ —it crawled onto your bed, and that’s where I lost it.”

“Oh, fuck you!” Michael replied, flipping him off.

“Are you mad at me?” Luke asked cautiously.  He looked hurt, but that could be attributed to the dim lighting of the night sky pouring through the window.

“I—I mean, it’s just a centipede, Luke.  It’s not that big of a deal,” Michael said seriously.

“But you seem—“

“Luke.  If you don’t let me go to sleep, I’m _gonna_ get angry, _soon_.” Michael said simply, closing his eyes and pointedly turning his back to the conversation, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Luke repeated after a moment, retreating fully back into his own bunk.

* * *

 

Michael was able to get two, maybe three, good hours of sleep before he was awoken by screaming and a lanky figure scrambling out of the bed above him and running out of the room, shrieking, _“ASHTON!  ASHTON!!”_

He was a little concerned, but more annoyed at the fact that he was awake, until he saw a large, dark _thing_ scurry down the wall next to him before he all but leaped out of bed, joining Luke in the cacophony of _“ASHTON!!  ASHTON, WAKE UP!!”_ that filled their suite.

Eventually, Ashton came in and killed the centipede with a frying pan _(that he had planned on using as a weapon against the burglar he assumed had somehow broken into their dorm)_ , calling Luke and Michael _“a couple of shitbag babies”_ , before returning to his own bedroom, slamming and locking the door behind him. 

“It was a really big centipede,” Luke explained, sitting on the edge of Michael’s mattress and feeling sorry that he had woken Michael and Ashton up for a stupid bug.

“I know,” Michael agreed.

“It was on my pillow next to my face,” Luke continued.  Michael made a disgusted expression. “Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

“I’m not sleeping in your bug-infested bed, if that’s what you’re asking me to do,” Michael replied.

“No, I meant—never mind.  I’m an annoying baby,” Luke cut himself off dejectedly.  It took Michael a few more seconds to figure it out, but it finally clicked in his head.  He sighed.

“Wait-- It’s fine… but my smelly ass feet are going to be next to your head, got it?” He asked, picking up a pillow that had fallen to the floor and throwing it at Luke, who caught it and smiled, cheeks slightly pink.

“Got it.”


	9. Venti Frappuccino

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael ruins the thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These next few chapters contain some angst/overdramatic behavior, which is kind of out of my comfort level when it comes to writing, so I hope no one really hates it lmao.

God damn it.

 _Everything_ was bothering Michael this week.  The first math test of the year was coming up, Luke was being _way_ too clingy, he had a fucking English paper due already, he couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten a good night’s sleep, he was missing home, Calum was being too loud, and Luke was being way too fucking _clingy_. 

Everywhere Michael went, Luke went.  And it was _really_ fucking bothering him.  That wasn’t to say he didn’t like Luke anymore or something, because he did, and he had become the fastest close friend Michael had ever made, but god _damn_ , he was used to being a solitary creature, and he wanted, like, _three hours_ to himself, and he had no idea how to articulate his need for alone time to the other boy without feeling like some kind of asshole.

So, trying not to focus on _everything_ that was wrong , Michael tried to tackle his problems one-by-one, starting with the biggest source of stress, which was the math test.  He was _bad_ at math and had just barely skirted around the edges of failure the previous year, when he took the equivalent of Math 104 at his old school.  Even though the first test was going to be on the most basic, high school algebra concepts, it was still stressing him out way more than it should. 

Then, Luke offered to help him study.  Which was very nice of him, and Michael appreciated the offer, somewhere deep inside him, but it went downhill quickly.

* * *

 

 _“Fuck!”_ Michael shouted, throwing his pencil at the wall in front of him, “I can’t even get the practice problems right!  How the fuck am I supposed to pass this fucking class when I’m so goddamn _stupid_?!”

Luke looked up from where he was lying on his stomach on Michael’s bed, typing something up on his laptop and listening to music.  He took out an earbud to address his roommate.

“You’re probably having trouble because you’re too frustrated.  Sometimes it’s better to take a break, clear your head, and come back to it with fresh eyes,” Luke advised, “We could go get lunch and get away for a bit.”

Truthfully, it was a good idea.  But truthfully, Michael didn’t even want to be _around_ Luke’s unnecessarily upbeat attitude right now, and he didn’t want his fucking optimistic _advice_.  He was going to _fail_ , and his life would be in ruins for the billionth time.

“I can’t take a break, I need to do this.  Now.” Michael replied, turning back towards his desk, papers and pencils strewn all over.

“Do you want help, then?  I can look over your work and tell you what you’re doing wrong,” The younger boy suggested.

At that moment, Michael chose to take those words as a personal attack against his intelligence.

“I know you’re so _fucking perfect_ and I’m a dumbass, so, _no_ , I don’t need you to stand over my shoulder and tell me how stupid I am,” he snapped irritably.

“That’s…not what I meant…” Luke said quietly, grimacing.  He shifted his attention back to his laptop screen, though Michael could tell he was bothered by the older boy’s comment and wasn’t actually focused on whatever homework he had been working on.

Michael knew that wasn't what he meant.  It didn’t matter.  He rolled his eyes to himself and started scribbling in the margins of his practice worksheet.

* * *

 

It wasn’t fucking _working_.  Minutes passed in strained silence.  Michael threw his head back and groaned loudly.

“Can…can you…help…?” Michael’s words were halted, and he was feeling like an idiot for denying the offer for help just moments before.  Luke wordlessly stood up and walked over to Michael’s desk, leaning down over his shoulder to look at the sheet of paper.

“Oh!  I see what you did.  It’s an easy fix…” Luke started, picking up Michael’s discarded pencil. 

It turned out Michael _had_ known how to do the problems, for the most part, he had just forgotten a simple step, which was messing up his result.  Once he realized and corrected his mistake, he was easily able to finish the practice problems without error, Luke continuing to stand behind him to keep an eye on his progress.  Once finished, Michael sighed, stretching his arms over his head and cracking his knuckles.

“All right.  Now I need a break,” he said. 

“Lunch?” Luke asked.  Michael nodded.  All that math _had_ made him hungry.

* * *

 

Somewhere in the middle of lunch, Michael suddenly remembered his desire to be by himself, and, unable to squash the urge, his mood turned sour again, internally blaming Luke for bothering him, even though he had agreed to this lunch date.  Even though Michael refused to just say that he wanted to be alone, leaving the other boy with no idea of the issue brewing in his mind.

Once back in the room, instead of beginning his work on the English paper due the following week, Michael decided to go into full cave-mode.  He deserved some relaxation time.  He silently crawled into his bunk, dragging his laptop with him, as well as a headset with a microphone, making sure to take up the full area of the mattress so that Luke wouldn’t have a place to sprawl out.

The blonde looked at him confusedly, settling down at his own desk with his computer, cracking it open and beginning to work again on the assignment he had been working on before Michael’s math dilemma.  A few feet away, Michael began his game of World of Warcraft, fully intending on playing for the rest of eternity.

* * *

 

Three hours passed before the two phones in the dorm room vibrated simultaneously.  Luke quickly grabbed his own phone, but Michael didn’t even look up when he heard it, too absorbed in the events happening on-screen.

After typing something, sending it, and receiving a few more texts—those extra vibrations were starting to get on Michael’s nerves like a mosquito in his ear—Luke snapped his laptop shut, and looked up expectantly at Michael, noticing that he hadn't yet checked his phone.

“Hey, Michael, do you want—“ Luke cut himself short at the utterly annoyed expression Michael gave him briefly, and sighed, “Never mind.”

Luke quietly grabbed Michael’s Blink-182 hoodie he’d been appropriating for the past few weeks (even though by now his parents had shipped him boxes full of his own warm clothes) and his wallet.  He left the room, closing the bedroom door behind him.  Michael barely noticed.

* * *

 

After about an hour, Luke returned, a Venti-sized Double Chocolate Chip Frappuccino in hand.

“Ashton, Calum, and I went to Starbucks and I didn’t want to bother you by asking if you wanted anything,” Luke explained quickly, slipping it into the crook of Michael’s elbow so he wouldn’t have to take his hands off the keyboard for even a second. 

Michael took the drink, genuinely touched.  He looked up at Luke, smiling, and nodded in thanks. 

“Thank you so much, that’s really—“ Michael was suddenly distracted by a noise coming from his laptop.  His character had been killed, and the members of his team were spamming him with messages about how they’d have to completely restart the dungeon. “ _Fuck_!  Fuckfuck _fuck_!”

“I—I’m sorry—“ Luke stuttered, taking a physical step back.  Michael cut him off with a quick shake of the head, turning his focus back to the game.  He decided it was Luke's fault; he hadn’t asked for a fucking Frappuccino.

* * *

 

More hours passed.  It was _really_ fucking easy to get absorbed in a game like this, and Michael embraced it. 

Across the room, Luke seemed to be getting restless, gradually trying to start conversations more and more frequently, despite Michael’s noncommittal grunts or short answers.  Michael could tell that Luke was starting to get desperate for attention, starting to spout off fun facts about topics that Michael normally would have found really interesting, but at this point, he found them _really_ fucking _annoying_.

“Miiikey…” Luke groaned for what seemed like the hundredth time, laying spread-eagle on the carpet, rolling around from side-to-side occasionally.

“Luke, _what the fuck do you want_?!” Michael nearly yelled, ripping his headset off and looking fully at the younger boy.  Luke recoiled in response.

“I—I’m just bored, and wondered if you…wanted to like…do something fun tonight?  With me?” Luke said hesitantly, standing up slowly.

“No.  I really don’t.” Michael snapped shortly, glaring at him. 

Luke’s mouth opened and closed a few times, before answering, _“Oh.”_

“Why don’t you go _pester_ Ashton?  Or Calum?” Michael asked, annoyance clear in his voice.

“Ashton’s on RA duty and is working the front desk tonight, and Calum went out with his soccer buddies,” Luke explained, voice shaky, cheeks reddening.

“You should have just gone with Calum,” Michael replied nastily.  He already knew Luke probably hadn’t been invited, since Calum’s soccer hangouts were generally more exclusive events.  Michael and Luke had also admitted to each other that they were slightly offended by that, since they knew Calum’s soccer friends sometimes brought their own friends, but the brunette hadn’t invited them once.  Michael didn’t care at the moment.

“I—I wasn’t _inv_ —He didn’t—Why are you being a dick?” Luke asked hotly, hands balled into fists.

“Because you’re fucking _annoying_ and I’m sick of being your _goddamn babysitter_!  Can you _please_ go get your own fucking life and leave me alone for one _fucking_ minute?!  Find someone else to cuddle with and eat all your meals with and sleep in their bed and follow around for-fucking- _ever_!  God, it’s like you think you’re my clingy fucking _boyfriend_ or something!” Michael shouted, eyes squeezed shut with the force of his words.  When finished, he took a few deep breaths to collect himself before opening his eyes again.

When he opened them, he felt like he had been shot with a missile full of regret.  Luke blinked at him for a moment, blue eyes wide and shining, mouth slightly open.  Then, his face crumpled into complete misery, easily the worst expression Michael had ever had the displeasure of putting on someone’s face, and he _swore_ with the way Luke’s lower lip trembled, he was about to burst into tears. 

Luke caught his lip ring between his teeth and bit down on his lip hard, before squeezing his own eyes shut, shaking his head vigorously, and turning his back to Michael.  Michael heard him take a few shuddering breaths, saw him wringing his hands in front of him, before moving to collect his laptop, phone, and backpack from the desk. 

Michael’s mind short-circuited.  He didn’t know what to say to fix what he just did.  Instead of saying anything, he just watched with wide eyes as Luke put his things into his backpack and slid it over his too-tense shoulders.  He finally found his ability to speak, albeit unintelligibly, when Luke faced him once more.

“Luke, I, I didn’t, I didn’t, I—“

“It’s fine,” Luke nearly whispered, looking directly at the floor and not at Michael, his voice less than a centimeter away from cracking, “I—Just—I didn’t—Think--” he choked out, “Ss-sorry.”

Still looking anywhere but at Michael, Luke scurried out of the room, closing the door gently behind him.

* * *

 

Michael sat in stunned silence, _knowing_ he was the biggest piece of shit in the entire universe.  His eyes darted over to the now-empty Starbucks cup that Luke had brought him.  He finally really considered the fact that Luke had _not only_ brought him a drink, when he couldn’t even dignify him with an _answer_ to the initial invitation, didn’t even let Luke finish speaking _to_ invite him, but had brought him his _favorite_ drink, knowing Michael wasn’t a big coffee fan, and had brought him the largest _size_ of his favorite drink when they all complained that Starbucks was so fucking _expensive_ , and Michael hadn’t even properly thanked him, and had been a complete fucking dick all day, probably all week— _God_ , he couldn’t even remember when he _hadn’t_ been a dick—What should he do?

He glanced at his phone laying on the sheets next to him.  He bit his lip, picking it up and unlocking it.  Michael went to his contacts, hands shaking slightly as he hovered over the name _“Lukey”_ , garnished with the winking-tongue-sticking-out emoji on either side.  He couldn’t call him, he didn’t know what he would say, or if he _could_ say anything, and Luke probably wouldn’t answer anyway.  A text, then, maybe?

Michael opened his iMessage chat with Luke, the last messages in the log being memes they had sent to each other while in their respective beds, cackling out loud late into the night.  He didn’t know what to write, now.  He stared at the screen for a long time, before deciding he needed time to think, and re-locked his phone and set it back down next to him.

Fuck.  Fuck.  _Fuck_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe Michael doesn't play World of Warcraft but I'm not extremely familiar with the gameplay of League or GTA, but I know WoW, so that's why I chose it instead.  
> Also, I don't like to end on cliffhangers but this was getting way too long to be consistent with my regular updates so I guess I'm just sorry about this chunk of chapters all around aaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!


	10. Solid Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael fixes the thing.

The blue-haired boy sat motionless on his bed for a while, just staring at his blank-screened iPhone, like it was going to get up and start dancing or something.  Grimacing, he reached for it, hesitating and taking his hand back and forth a few times, and was about to finally go for it, when it started vibrating with a phone call, making Michael jump about six feet into the air.

The name ‘Ashton’ flashed across the top of the screen.

Suddenly extremely worried, Michael answered quickly.

“Hello?” he said.

“Hey, is everything all right?” Ashton asked, getting straight to the point.

“W-what do you mean?” Michael replied.

“Well, I’m at the front desk and I just saw Luke on his way out, and I was like _‘hey Luke!’_ and he looked at me, but didn’t say anything and kept walking.  And he looked pretty upset, like his face was all red and frowny, did something happen?”

“We…had…a spat,” Michael said slowly, choosing his words carefully.

“About?”

“Ehh…I told him I wanted some alone time,” Michael looked away, even though Ashton obviously couldn’t see his lying face through the phone.  Ashton chuckled on the other end.

“Not in those words, though, huh?” Ashton asked.

“I was really…I’m a fuckup,” Michael admitted, “And now I don’t know what to do…”

“Apologizing would be a start.”

“Like… _now?_ Or should I wait 'til he cools off a little?”

“Hm, good question.  I’d say sooner, rather than later, but maybe not _immediately_.  You’ll know when it feels right.  Think about what you’re going to say first, or it might not seem sincere.” Ashton suggested.

“Thanks, Ash,” Michael replied, “You’re really cut out for being a counselor.”

“Any time.  Good luck, I gotta go.  No personal calls at the desk.”

“Alright, bye.”

“Bye!”

* * *

 It took Michael a _long_ fucking time to think of what he should say.  He decided to take Luke’s advice from earlier, and take a break and come back to it with fresh eyes, or at least, that’s what he told himself he was doing.  He started another quest on World of Warcraft with the issue waiting in the back of his mind.  Really, he was just putting it off, half-hoping Luke would come back on his own, and just _not_ be upset somehow all on his own.

But now it was getting late, and Luke hadn’t returned, not that Michael really thought he would.  He sighed, turning off his laptop and picking up his phone with a firm hand.

“hey,” he typed in an iMessage to Luke, “where did u go?”

He waited a few minutes that ended up feeling like hours.  No answer.

“im really sorry, where are you??” he tried. 

Still nothing.  Michael was worried.

“please just answer so i know youre alive????? you can stay mad at me just answer!!!!!!!"

Full of anxiety, Michael brought Luke up in his contacts, pressing the ‘call’ button and putting the phone to his ear.

It rang a few times, but too few, and then went to voicemail.  So, Michael concluded, that meant Luke had silenced his call about halfway through, which meant Luke wasn’t dead, at least.  Michael opted to leave a voicemail that said, simply, “Luuuuuuuuke, pleeeeeeeeeaaaaaaase!”

“i know ur alive now, the jig is up. tell me where u went >:( “ Michael sent after hanging up.  He saw the ellipses that meant that Luke was typing.  Then they disappeared as he had stopped typing.  Then they appeared again.  This repeated a few times until Michael finally received an answer.

“caf” was all the iMessage said.  Michael fortunately knew that meant ‘the cafeteria’.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Michael stood up, put on his fuzzy pink slippers, and headed out the door.  But not before rummaging around under his bed for a certain piece of equipment and some other supplies, slipping them into his backpack and slinging it onto his back.  This week was really too damn stressful.

* * *

 

Michael arrived at the cafeteria and looked around, but was unable to locate his roommate.  He decided to Facetime him, hoping the background would give him some kind of indication.

Luke actually answered the Facetime call, blank-faced, but his bloodshot, puffy eyes and rosy nose gave away his true emotions.  Michael hesitated, frowning, before asking where he was sitting.

“Over here, I can see you,” Luke said in a quiet, scratchy voice.  Michael saw him look past the camera and start to wave.  He followed his line of sight until he finally saw the younger boy’s hiding place, on a couch in the corner of the cafeteria, nearly hidden by a concrete pillar.  He was curled into a ball with his hood up, the likely reason why Michael hadn’t spotted him.

When Michael approached, slowly, as if sudden movements would make Luke flee, Luke was looking at his phone screen and didn’t look up, not acknowledging the older boy’s presence.  Michael suddenly felt very awkward, like maybe he shouldn’t have come.  But it was too late for that.

“So…” he started.  Luke still didn’t look up. “I’m really, _really_ sorry.  I’m sorry.  I’m really… _sorry_ ,” he finished awkwardly. “And I’m _really_ not good at this.  I had a whole list of things to say and I should have written it down or something because my mind is completely blank right now.”

Luke looked up slowly, “There’s nothing to be sorry for.  I was annoying.”

Michael was taken aback.  That wasn’t Luke fishing for a counterargument, or a manipulative tactic into making Michael apologize harder, that was a genuine sentiment.  He frowned, saddened.

“No, Luke, you weren’t.  I should have told you I wanted a few hours to myself.”

“You did.”  _Jesus._

“Stop.  I shouldn’t have said it like that, and I didn’t mean the shitty things I said.  I was feeling…frustrated with _a lot_ of different things, and I took it out on you.  It was _mean_ and…bad,” Michael said awkwardly.  Luke looked back down, and was silent again.  Michael hated that silence, it was so _wrong_ for Luke to be unhappily quiet. “Can we go for a walk?”

Luke shrugged, but stood up and put his backpack on.  His expression seemed empty, his mouth in a slight frown, eyes tired and not really focused on anything in particular.  Michael felt compelled to wrap him in a hug, but it wasn’t returned, Luke’s arms remaining limp at his sides.

“I’m _really_ sorry, can you please just _say something_ , please?  Be mad, or…something,” Michael groaned, Luke still enveloped in his arms.  Luke didn’t respond, aside from shaking his head ‘no’ against Michael’s shoulder.

* * *

 

Once outside, Michael led the both of them into the small nature center behind the residence hall, that led out to some bike trails and a small wooded area with a pond.

They said nothing on the way, the only sounds being the snapping of leaves and twigs beneath their feet, the rustle of the trees and bushes from the wind and the occasional chipmunk.  Michael breathed out and saw his breath in front of him.  It was really getting to be cooler at night, and he should’ve brought a thicker jacket, rather than the green and black flannel he had been wearing earlier in the day when it had still been sunny and warm.  Luke seemed to share a similar opinion, hiding his exposed hands in the sleeves of his hoodie and zipping it up all the way.

There was a small, narrow path through the tall grass and cattail plants created by visitors from years past, demanding an entrance to the pond hidden within.  Michael took it, Luke following behind, and they came to a small patch of dry, yellowed grass and dirt in front of the water. 

Michael sat down with his legs folded pretzels-and-dip-style in front of him, and Luke joined him, pulling his thighs to his chest and wrapping his arms tightly around his own shins.  They said nothing for a while, watching the reflection of the moonlight and stars on the dark greenish water and listening to the sound of the croaking frogs.  Michael finally noticed that Luke had stopped peeking out over his knees and had instead buried his face in his own legs when he heard a loud sniffle.  His head snapped to Luke’s direction, his eyes wide in alarm.  _No.  Nonononono_ —

The older boy reached out tentatively, intending to put a comforting hand on Luke’s shoulder, but hesitated, uncomfortable, stopping to hover a few inches above him.  He put his hand back in his lap, deciding against it.

“Are—Are you…Are you _cryi_ —“ He tried to ask instead.

 _“No!”_ Luke snapped, snot-logged voice muffled by his knees covering his face.  The lie was obvious, especially after Michael heard him take a deep breath, then another, then he hiccupped, then took three more loud and boogery sniffs, before finally removing his face from where it was hiding, scrubbing furiously at his eyes with the backs of his hands and wiping his nose on his hoodie sleeve.

‘ _My_ hoodie sleeve…’ Michael noted internally.

Taking another deep breath, Luke spat, “Why am I terrible?”

“What?  You’re not—“

“I _am_.  I never have any fucking _friends_ and I don’t know how to be _normal_ ,” Luke replied bitterly.  Michael thought back to the first night he had made contact with Luke, what he knew of him from Facebook stalking the younger boy.

“But you’re popular, I thought-- You have all those pictures on your Facebook with all your friends…” Michael countered weakly.  Luke barked out a laugh.

“Those are my brother’s friends, I was just the annoying little sibling who tagged along all the time.  No one fucking _likes_ me, _ever_ ,” he said.

“Oh.  _I_ like you,” Michael replied lamely.

“No you don’t.  I’m _annoying_.”

“And so does Calum, and so does Ashton.  You guys are pretty much the only friends I have too, aside from the handful of sorta-friends I have at home.  I spent basically the whole summer in my basement playing video games, if that paints you a picture of my usual social life.  And you’re not annoying,” Michael continued.

“You _said_ I was annoying,” Luke said quietly.  Michael certainly regretted that remark, among the others.  He knew what it was like to be called annoying and knew he shouldn’t have said it as soon as the word slipped out of his mouth.

“I was annoy _ed_ , but it wasn’t your fault.  I shouldn’t have said it,” he admitted, “I’m really sorry about the whole thing.  And you should know by now that I don’t apologize easily.  Which is a fault of mine.”

“Yeah.”

“So…how are you feeling?  Are we good?  Hug?” Michael asked after a small stretch of silence, hopeful.  Luke considered it for a moment before answering.

“Yeah, okay.  Just—you could tell me when you want me to leave you alone, next time,” he said, wiping his nose again.

“I know.  I’m sorry,” Michael said, standing up as Luke did that same.

Luke actually returned the hug this time, and Michael squeezed as hard as possible and lifted Luke off the ground a few inches, causing him to gasp and his spine to go _‘pop’_ a few times.  By the time he was put back on solid ground, both boys were laughing.

“That actually felt really good,” Luke laughed.  Michael nodded.

“I know, I love it.  Anyway,” he replied, sitting back down and rummaging through his backpack, “Wanna smoke weed?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter contains pot-smoking.  
> I don't think that really needs a warning but I thought I'd mention it beforehand anyway because I didn't put a tag for it (bc I didn't want to tag this fic as containing 'drug usage' or whatever to make it sound like they were snorting coke or something)!!
> 
> Also, the next few chapters should come pretty quickly because they're already finished, for the most part.


	11. 420

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new activity.

“What?  Right now?” Luke asked, taken aback.

“I mean, you don’t have to, obviously, but I’m gonna,” Michael shrugged, taking out his pipe and a small glass jar, “This week almost killed me, so I deserve it, right?  Have you ever smoked before?”

Luke slowly sat down, looking uncertain. “Yeah, once, but nothing happened.”

“That makes sense.  Usually your first time is nothing, but you’d probably feel it now.  But seriously, only say yes if you actually want to.  It’s not like alcohol though-- for the most part, you’re completely in control.  Just…slower.  And more chilled out.  And things are funnier,” Michael explained, packing the bowl of his pipe.

Luke considered it, then shrugged his shoulders, “Sure, why not.  It’s just us, so if I do something stupid I can just say you were lying.”

“Niiice.  I knew I couldn’t ask Ash to do this with me for obvious reasons, and I couldn’t ask Calum because of the sports thing.  Glad to know we’re both losers with no obligations to society,” the older boy joked.  He lifted the pipe up to his mouth, about to light it with the green plastic lighter he’d luckily had stored in his backpack, then put it back down, reconsidering something. “Why haven’t you done this before?”

“What do you mean?  I just haven’t,” Luke asked, confused.

“I dunno, maybe it’s just where I grew up, but most people have a, uh, strong opinion on it either way, by the time they get into college,” Michael explained, “So I was just wondering.”

“Actually, it’s stupid, but I was always just afraid that my brother would tell my mom when he got mad at me,” Luke laughed, “He and his friends did it all the time, though.”

“What about drinking?” Michael asked.  Luke’s smile fell.

“What about it?” Luke replied defensively.

“See?  You’re like, touchy about it, every time it’s brought up.  Am I allowed to ask why?” Michael asked, a smile playing on his lips, careful not to push too hard, especially right after they’d just made up.

“No,” Luke snapped, then, correcting himself, in a gentler tone, “Maybe some other time.  I’d just rather not talk about it right now.”

“Oh.  Okay,” Michael replied, shrugging.

“It’s nothing personal,” Luke winced, afraid he’d offended his roommate.

“No, I get it.  We’re all carrying some shit on our backs,” Michael replied, putting the pipe back up to his lips and lighting it up.

“Thanks for understanding,” Luke said.

* * *

 

“Wow,” Luke sighed, laying on his back next to Michael on the ground, looking up at the clear night sky.

Michael had ended up having to hold and light the pipe for Luke after the younger boy had become frustrated at not fully understanding Michael’s verbal instructions.  And after Luke took the hit, he started coughing so hard he nearly threw up and Michael _laughed_ so hard _he_ nearly threw up, groping around in his backpack for the stale-ass water bottle he knew to still be sitting in there from _‘a couple days ago’_ , whatever that meant.

“What time is it now?” Luke asked for the umpteenth time in the past ten minutes.

“It just turned to twelve-thirty,” Michael replied, after checking his phone for the umpteenth time in the past ten minutes.

“Holy _fuck_ ,” the blonde breathed.  Luke kept asking what time it was, and was always so fucking shocked when it turned out to only be a minute or two after the last time he asked, “It feels like I’ve been laying here for at least an hour.”

“I know.  But…it’s good?  Yeah?”

“Yeah, I’m good.  Kinda hungry though.  And cold.  Can we go back?  Are we going to get in trouble?” Luke asked, sitting up.

“No, it’s fine.  We probably don’t smell bad, just don’t act obvious about it, you know?   But most likely no one gives a shit anyway.”

* * *

 

They ran into Ashton on their way back into the suite, as he came out of the bathroom after finishing brushing his teeth.  Michael tried to sneak past with Luke in tow, but Ashton stopped to greet them, beaming.

“Hey guys!  Productive chat?” the wavy-haired boy asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Michael said quickly, noticing that Ashton was staring behind him at Luke.  Michael turned to look as well, and saw that Luke had the dopiest smile on his face, his eyes were bloodshot, and he was looking somewhere _past_ Ashton, rather than _at_ him.  Luke apparently saw Michael’s concerned expression out of the corner of his eye, and jerkily turned his attention towards the blue-haired boy, looking at him questioningly.

“Hmm?”

“Oh my _god_ , Luke is fucking high as shit,” Calum laugh-snorted, materializing over Ashton’s shoulder after coming out of his bedroom upon hearing the two boys enter the suite, wanting to know what the fuss was about.  In reply, Luke gave him a chuckle and a wink, making Calum laugh harder.

“No he’s not,” Michael argued, pulling Luke to stand behind him and ushering him towards their bedroom door.

“Ohh, _Michael_ …” Ashton groaned, covering his face in his hands, “You can’t—don’t—never mind, just-- go to bed!  Good night!” He dismissed them quickly with a wave of his hand and started retreating into his own room, Calum following close behind, snickering on the way.

* * *

 

Once safely in their shared room, Michael closed the door behind them, sighing.  When he moved to fully enter the room, Luke was standing in the middle of it, looking rather lost.

“Luke, what did I tell you right before we came in here?  To act _normal_?  You _really_ didn’t succeed,” Michael scolded, but was glad the blonde had been able to keep it together when moving past the security station at the entrance of their residence hall, where it really mattered.  If they had asked to search Michael’s bag, he would have been _fucked_.

“You were the one who told me we ‘might as well smoke just another _little_ bowl, for the road’ before we came back here,” Luke complained, mocking Michael’s voice, starting to peel off his clothes in exchange for pajamas. “I’m sleepy and I feel like my body is trying to escape my…self, so I’m just gonna lay in my bed…” Luke trailed off as he crawled into Michael’s bed, pulling the comforter over him and curling up into a ball, head resting on Michael’s pillows, facing the wall behind the bed.

“That’s _my_ bed,” he moaned.  When there was no response, he growled half-heartedly, pulling another blanket from Luke’s top bunk, sliding into his own bed, back-to-back with Luke’s already-unconscious form, their feet and long legs tangling together awkwardly further down the mattress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smoke w33d every day \m/  
> Next chapter probably Thursday night. :')


	12. Crushcrushcrush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of unfortunate events.  
> or  
> The plot shows its face? Finally???

Oh, _god_.

One fateful day in English 201, Michael came to a horrible and jarring realization, one that caused him to feel like his life was crashing down around him once more.

_‘Oh my fucking god, I think I have a fucking crush on Luke, shitshitshit,’_ He thought, drumming his fingers nervously on his desk, mouth suddenly dry.

* * *

 

It all started a few weeks before, a little bit after Michael had shown Luke the wonderful world of weed.  He had started catching himself thinking little, although strange-for-him, things, like, _‘I wish Luke would wear that shirt more often,’_ or _‘Wow, Luke smells amazing today.’_   And then, on the multiple occasions Luke caught Michael staring at him, Michael had the urge to look away quickly, rather than owning up to it and having a laugh about zoning out, like normal.  Michael also started noticing a weird…warm, _fond_ feeling whenever Luke did something that could be considered silly, in place of his usual slight annoyance, making him feel like the Grinch after his heart had grown three sizes.  However, Michael had been unable to place these strange feelings, assuming this was happening because they were continuing to become closer friends, although, he never gave any thought to why he hadn’t been experiencing the same things with Calum or Ashton, whom he spent about the same amount of time with.

But it all finally made some fucking sense, when Michael started daydreaming while reading the assigned love poem during class.  Daydreaming.  About _Luke_.  And how tall he was, and how kind, and gentle, and how nice it would be to hold his hand, and how his stubble was so fucking _hot_ —

Michael yanked himself forcefully out of his own thoughts.

_‘What the fuck was that?’_ he thought, truly alarmed.  He looked back down at the sheet of paper containing the poem on his desk.  He read it over, again.  And again.  It was a romantic poem, and he didn’t realize it before…when he was relating every event to himself and Luke… _fuck._

Michael’s heart raced as his shattered mind tried to piece together what was falling apart inside of him.

_‘This is bad, this is really bad,’_ Michael thought, eyes darting around the room like someone would be able to read his thoughts, toes tapping anxiously on the floor.  He felt jittery, as if he had just drank too many cups of coffee.  He glanced at the clock.  There were still thirty-five fucking minutes left before he could go home.  He wasn’t going to make it.  He had to go before life was able to throw any more curveballs at him.  Michael quickly shoved his belongings into his backpack and started to leave, the professor looking at him expectantly.  Michael must have looked sick or something, though, because she gave him a concerned look and mouthed _‘email me’_ , waving him out of the classroom.

Quickly walking, practically running, through the hallway, Michael suddenly bumped into something large and heavy.  It was _fucking_ Luke, of course, looking down at him, confused.

“Michael?  Are you okay?  You look kinda…sweaty,” the blonde pointed out.  Michael pushed past him, giving him a weak excuse.

“I’m fine, I just… I had Taco Bell for lunch and I gotta go,” the older boy lied.  Luke nodded in understanding, watching Michael disappear down the hallway.

* * *

 

Michael had been on edge for the rest of the night, but managed to get through it without incident.  Nonetheless, he felt the horrible secret eating away at his guts, threatening to ruin his newest friendship. 

_‘Maybe I’m just horny,’_ he thought, trying to rationalize his thoughts, _‘I haven’t hooked up with anyone in months, maybe I’m just lonely and Luke is just the closest option.’_

This was confirmed to be a lie when he and Luke were watching an episode of Friends, cuddling—

_‘Damn it, this is all Luke’s fault for being so fucking close to me all the time!’_ Michael seethed.

\--and their hands touched in the popcorn bowl.  Michael felt like he had just been electrocuted as he brushed Luke’s fingertips, and flinched back, yelping in surprise.  _How fucking cliché._   His surprise, in turn, made Luke pull his hand away quickly as well, sitting up straighter and moving away from Michael.

“Was my hand cold?  I’m so sorry, everyone tells me I have weirdly clammy hands—“ Luke explained quickly, self-conscious.  Of course, Michael couldn’t say what had really happened, so he went along with it. 

“Yeah, it’s fine though.  It was just a shock because I’m so warm right now,” Michael replied, gesturing to the blanket they were sharing, “I didn’t think it was gross or anything, I promise.”  That last part wasn’t a lie, so, good enough, right?

Luke looked at him, and then, hesitantly, settled back into his former position, throwing his legs over Michael’s lap, shifting and sliding to get closer to the blue-haired boy.

_‘Bad position, bad position, bad position,_ ’ Michael thought repeatedly in horror, realizing he was about to experience the most unfortunate awkward boner of his entire life.  Luke stiffened suddenly, a shocked expression on his face, though he didn’t turn towards Michael, seeming to be trying to ignore it. _‘Oh my god it’s touching his leg holy shit holy shit.  He knows!  He fucking knows!  Am I supposed to say something?!  What the fuck do I do?!  Why am I so disgusting?!’_ Michael opened his mouth to speak, but at the last second, decided maybe he should just ignore it and they could both pretend it wasn’t happening.  But instead, a strangled noise escaped his mouth without his permission, causing Luke to look at him, both their eyes wide.  There was silence, and the world was still, for a moment.

“This is really awkward,” Michael said finally, face tomato red, trying to smile.  Luke laughed nervously, subtly shifting his legs away from the other boy.

“D-Did you want to go…t-take care of—“

“No!” Michael snapped.  And then, an apologetic, “I’m really sorry, this is really gross…”  Luke laughed again, for real this time.

“It was bound to happen, I’m just glad it was you and not me.  _I’ve_ had enough embarrassing moments to last a lifetime.”

“That’s not very nice, for you to be happy that I’m suffering,” Michael retorted, unable to meet Luke’s eyes.  Luke reached out and pinched Michael’s cheek, speaking in a baby voice.

“You’re just so cute when you’re embarrassed,” he said, then reaching up to squish Michael’s cheeks together with both hands.  Michael laughed and slapped his hands away.

“Stop it, you’re a fucking idiot!  Just watch the fucking TV!”

Michael was grateful when Luke didn’t ask to sleep in his bed that night.

* * *

 

Michael dropped his backpack off in his room after class the next day, checking to make sure Luke wasn’t home.  He then made his way to Calum and Ashton’s room.  The door was closed, but Michael saw a pair of shoes that weren’t his or Luke’s in front of the door, so one of them had to be in there.  He knocked twice.

The door opened a crack, and Calum peeked out at him.

“I need to talk to you,” Michael said, “Are you busy?”

“Ashton was the one who ate all your jelly beans, not me,” Calum said defensively, not opening the door further.

“That’s not—wait, what the _fuck_?  I fucking _hate_ Ashton— _No_ , never mind!  That’s not why I’m here!  Are you busy or can I come in?” Michael asked, looking around behind him to make sure Luke was nowhere in sight, even though he was scheduled to be in class for another hour.  Calum’s face relaxed and he opened the door, smiling broadly.

“Of course you can come in, I was just playing Fifa,” he explained, moving aside and welcoming Michael into the room, “What’s up?”

Michael closed the door behind him.

“You have to promise not to tell anyone,” he started.  Calum looked concerned, raising an eyebrow.

“I can’t promise that unless I know what it is.  Is it something bad?”

“It’s not— _good_ ,” Michael sighed, shrugging his shoulders, “It’s just—I have—I have this _problem_ …”

“Did you get an STD?!  Is someone _pregnant_?!” Calum gasped.

“ _No!_ Shut the fuck up!” Michael hissed, “I just…I think—I have a crush, on—on Luke.”

_“Oh.”_

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t know you were gay,” Calum said.

“I’m bi,” Michael corrected.

“Oh.  That’s interesting.  …So?  Are you gonna date, or…?” The brunette replied, gesturing with his hands uncertainly, “’Cause…that might get messy, with the being-roommates thing, but it’s up to you.”

“No.  Luke can _never_ know.  There’s no _way_ he’d be into it, he’d probably think I was a fucking creep for letting him continue to be around me, unknowing victim to my evil lustful thoughts,” Michael replied with a sneer.

“No need to be so dramatic, Michael.  Maybe he likes you, too.  I mean, he’s constantly touching you and following you and literally sleeps in your bed half the time,” Calum argued.  Michael shook his head.

“No way.  That would be _way_ too obvious.  Luke is _definitely_ straight, all his Facebook relationships were with girls,” he groaned.

“Well, I didn’t know _you_ were bi-- maybe he is too, and you just don’t know it?” Calum countered.  Michael chuckled and put a condescending hand on the other boy’s shoulder.

“Calum.  _Please_.  Straight people could never get other people’s sexualities right, even if they wore flashing neon signs above their heads.  I know these things better than you.”  Calum shrugged.

“ _I_ never said _I_ was straight.”

“But…you are straight.” Michael stated.

“Okay, yeah, you got me,” Calum admitted with a laugh, “I just wanted to see if I could fool you,” he said, expression turning serious once more, “So, what are you going to do then?  If you’re just never going to tell him, and won’t do anything about it, why bother telling _me_?”

“I had to tell _someone_ , it was gnawing at me.  And I guess I was waiting for you to call me disgusting or something, but you didn’t, so I guess I can feel a little better about being awful,” Michael admitted, looking ashamed.  Calum clapped him on the back in a brotherly manner.

“Well, you’re not awful, and I’m sure Luke wouldn’t hate you if you told him.  And generally, people are a lot happier once they get something off their chest to the person that it _actually_ relates to.  So I vote you just tell him.”

“What if I’m wrong and I _don’t_ like him and he doesn’t believe that it was just a fleeting feeling and he avoids me for the rest of forever?” Michael moaned, hiding his face in his hands.

“You’re in quite a pickle, I’ll give you that.  Why don’t you ask Ashton?  He’s probably got some sage advice,” Calum asked.  Michael groaned again.

“Because I know if _he_ gave me advice, it would sound way too _reasonable_ and I wouldn’t be able to come up with an excuse not to follow it,” the blue-haired boy laughed miserably, laying face-down on the bed and muttering, “I think I’m going to just pretend it isn’t happening and wait for it to go away.”

“You do you, I guess,” Calum sighed, shaking his head and turning back to his book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh if there are any errors it's because I'm a little buzzed rn and don't feel like looking it over one more time atm, but this chapter was written a few nights ago so nothing should be too off (I just usually go back in one last time before posting it butttttt I said o'd post it tonight because im so dedicated............).


	13. Baby Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Operation: Get Rid of This Crush

_Step 1: Avoid Touching Luke Hemmings_

“Mikey!” Luke shouted as he burst through the door, throwing his backpack on the ground and opening his arms for an embrace.  A beginning-of-the-weekend ritual of theirs.

“Lukey!” Michael shouted back, leaping up from his desk chair and into Luke’s arms, spinning the larger boy around.  They eventually lost their balance, Luke’s lanky legs tangling with Michael’s slightly shorter ones, and toppled over onto the floor, laughing.

_Step 1: Failed._

* * *

 

_Step 2: No Dates With Luke Hemmings_

“I’m starving, wanna go out for dinner at that pub on Oak Street?” Luke asked after catching his breath and sitting up.  Michael sighed, shaking his head.

“I really shouldn’t be spending more money, we’ve gone out to eat too much this week…” Michael replied with a grimace, scratching the back of his head.

“I can pay for you, if you want.”

“Oh no, I don’t want you to have to do that…” Michael waved his hands in front of him, shaking his head again.  He actually felt bad, Luke was always buying him lunch, or paying for pizza deliveries that everyone shared, or treating him to Starbucks.  He didn’t want to seem like a freeloader, but he really _didn’t_ have much money to spare and Luke always wanted to go do things that required money, and seemed happy enough to pay for Michael so that they’d be able to do those things together.

“No, really, I want to.  My treat.  You can just, uh, I dunno.  Do something for me later.  I don’t really need anything, but I’ll think of some kind of small and annoying task that I don’t feel like doing,” Luke joked with a smile.  Michael hesitated.

“…Okay, let's go.”

They ended up being seated in a romantically secluded and dimly lit corner booth, knees touching under the table.

_Step 2: Failed._

* * *

 

_Step 3: DO NOT FUCKING KISS LUKE HE_ —Oh, fuck it.  Whatever.

After dinner, the two boys decided to get Starbucks (which Michael insisted he paid for himself, this time), and hung around for a bit, before Luke’s phone buzzed on the table, and then Michael’s, shortly after.  It was a text from Calum.

_“where r u guys?”_ it said.

_“starbux,”_ Luke replied. 

“Don’t spell it like that,” Michael said out loud, in mock-annoyance.  Luke smirked, knowing Michael hated when he spelled things _‘the dumbass way’_.

_“theres a party @ 4560 n pine ave tonight, u wanna go?”_ Calum asked.  Michael looked at Luke.

“Do you want to?” He asked.

“I dunno, do you want to?” Luke countered.  They had been to a few parties since the school year started, perhaps once every other weekend, and while Luke hadn’t objected to going to any, and usually seemed to have a decent amount of fun, Michael was still worried that Luke might have felt like the babysitter for his drunk roommates, and only went out of obligation.

“Kind of, but if you don’t want to, it’s fine.  I feel bad that you have to be around all the drunk people, like we _make_ you go or something,” Michael explained, deciding to voice his thoughts.  Luke shook his head.

“If I didn’t like going, I’d stay home and do zen gardening with Ashton or whatever the fuck he does when we’re not around,” Luke laughed.

“Alright,” Michael shrugged, typing up a reply to send to Calum in confirmation of their attendance.  They agreed to meet up at the house at eight o’clock.

* * *

 

_“My boyyys,”_ Calum greeted them on the front porch, drink in hand, “Welcome!”

He introduced them to some friends of his, the already buzzed guests who were also occupying the space on the porch, and then led his roommates inside.

“Kitchen’s that way, Michael.  Don’t go too hard tonight, can’t get too loose when you’ve got secrets to keep,” Calum winked knowingly, and Michael glared at him.  The brunette gave him a smug look and trotted off to find the bathroom.

“That was a weird thing to say,” Luke said, oblivious. 

Michael simply nodded, muttering, “Yeah,” and moved towards the kitchen to make himself a drink.

Luke stood behind the older boy, watching him measure out two shots to pour into the red solo cup (he really _did_ want to be careful of his alcohol intake tonight), and then filling it the rest of the way with Mountain Dew.  Luke cleared his throat to get Michael’s attention.

“Can you, uh, can I have one?  Er, would you make me one?” Luke asked hesitantly.  Michael raised an eyebrow, but didn’t turn around before speaking.

“You can pour your own soda, Luke.  I believe in you.”

“No, I mean.  Like a _drink_ drink.  With alcohol in it.” He clarified awkwardly.  Michael turned towards him, holding his cup in both hands.

“Why?”

“I j—I…just, I… _dunno_ …” Luke mumbled, fidgeting with his shirt sleeves.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like you _had_ to drink at parties earlier, you know.  I just wanted to make sure you actually wanted to be here when everyone _else_ is drinking.  We really _can_ go do something else if you’d prefer,” Michael offered.  Luke shook his head.

“No, I’d actually already been thinking about it before we even got invited here.  I just thought, I’ve been letting one bad experience hold me back, when I’ve been wanting to have fun like everyone else once in a while.” Michael gave him a skeptical look, so Luke continued, “But not like, a peer pressure thing, just, I dunno, something I want to experience.”

“I don’t want this to turn into a Lifetime movie where they show this exact shot of me pouring alcohol into your cup over and over again throughout your story of becoming a teen alcoholic and drug addict, ruining your life and dropping out of school, and then your mom sues me,” Michael warned, then shrugged, “But you’re an adult, so it’s your choice.  What do you want to drink?”

“Uh, what’s good?”

“It all tastes like shit, if I’m honest.  I’ll just make you a rum and Coke because…I don’t know, I feel like a cool bartender when I make that shit,” Michael said, turning back around to fill the cup.

Once finished, he handed it to Luke.  The younger boy took a sip, wincing.

“That _does_ taste like shit,” he said.

“Don’t be a little bitch, I didn’t even put that much rum in it,” Michael laughed, smacking him in the shoulder gently, “If we were real men, we’d be drinking straight whiskey without complaint!”

Luke giggled, taking another huge chug of his drink, attempting to train his expression into indifference rather than disgust.  It didn’t work, an obviously fake, pained smile spreading across his features.

“Mmm!!  This sure is tasty!” Luke said between gritted teeth, a comical level of horror evident in his eyes.

“Shut up,” Michael laughed.

* * *

 

A short while later, Michael stood up from the armchair he was sitting on to refill his drink.  Luke, who was perched on the thick, cushioned arm of the chair, waved his empty cup at him, wordlessly asking for more.  Michael eyed him warily before taking the cup.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, then quickly added, “I’m just being careful.”

“I’m completely sober,” Luke stated, looking and sounding the part convincingly enough as well, “Besides, I know you’ll keep me safe.”

Michael’s heart felt like it was glowing.  _Well._   Didn’t _that_ just cause a whole barrage of warm and fuzzy feelings.  He went to refill the drinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up for next chapter: discussion of consent issues, but nothing non-consensual happens.  
> Like the pot-smoking thing, just thought I'd let you know beforehand since I didn't tag it (but like I said, nothing non-consensual actually takes place.)


	14. Fourth Drink Instinct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do we do now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said at the end of the last chapter, a possible consent issue arises simply due to the fact that they're drunk but nothing nonconsensual happens. Just a heads up again anyway though!

Michael stared at his reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall of the cramped bathroom. 

 _‘Holy fuck,’_ he thought, _‘I am so drunk.’_

He vaguely remembered that he hadn’t wanted to get too drunk tonight, for some reason.  But, haha, whoops, a little too late for that.  Michael was still on the upswing and knew tonight he was going to let himself go hard as fuck.  Before he knew it, he had wandered back to the plush couch in the living room and had sunk down on it. 

Luke emerged from the swinging door of the kitchen, his drink mysteriously replenished after Michael had refused to let him have any more than two mixed drinks.  Michael estimated that Luke was on his fourth drink, the same as himself, but ultimately came to the decision that Luke was a big boy who could make his own choices, and Ashton was only a phone call away if anything went especially awry. 

The blonde flopped down next to Michael, boneless, splashing his drink a bit on the way.  He nuzzled his nose into the crook of Michael’s shoulder, humming happily and scooting in closer.  Michael sighed, content, in return, resting his cheek on the top of Luke’s head.  He felt so warm, and cozy, and _good._   Luke tentatively reached for Michael’s hand, which had somehow come to rest on top of Luke’s thigh, and held it, lacing their fingers together.  Michael sighed again, eyes closing.  He thought there was probably something significant happening, right then, but couldn’t be bothered to focus on anything besides the _right_ and _nice_ feelings he was experiencing. 

Someone suggested a drinking game, and Michael shook himself back into the real world, agreeing to play it, along with Luke, after chugging the remains of his last drink. 

* * *

 

About halfway through the game, the two boys were approached by Calum, who had mostly decided to leave them to do their own thing once he saw the pair holding hands.  He wore his shoes, jacket, and a concerned expression.

“I’m sleeping over at a friend’s dorm tonight, are you guys gonna get home okay?” Calum asked, to which Michael replied with a lazy nod and a slow smile.  Calum added, “…You should probably stop drinking for the night.  You’re going to feel _awful_ tomorrow.”

“Naaahh, we’re fine.  Th’ game’s only halfwayover,” Michael slurred, gesturing loosely to the playing cards in front of him with one hand, the other busy splayed around Luke’s shoulder, fingers toying with the collar of Luke’s flannel shirt.  Calum glanced at Luke, who appeared to be in a state of complete bliss, both arms reaching around Michael, hugging his torso, his head resting on Michael’s chest, legs folded inwards on Michael’s lap.

“Okay…” Calum said hesitantly, “If you need anything, don’t be afraid to call me or Ashton.”

“Yup.”

“I mean it.”

“Gottit.”  Calum gave Michael a sidelong glance, then shook his head.

“Have a good night guys, stay safe,” he said, turning to leave.  Michael and Luke gave him a wave and a few other random guests yelled out their goodbyes.

Michael shifted, pushing Luke off of him a little.  Luke detached himself and looked at Michael expectantly.

“’Gotta go to th’ bathroom,” he explained, standing up from his seat on the couch.  He turned to go, when he felt a hand on his wrist.

“Wait,” Luke said.  Michael gave him a confused look.  He was only going to be gone for a minute. “I need—I need to tell you something, before I forget.”

“What is it?” Michael asked, watching Luke bite his lower lip, chewing on his lip ring for a moment.  “Luke?”

“I don’t—I dunno how to say it,” Luke admitted, looking away.  Michael started to tug his hand away from Luke’s grip.  He was certainly interested in what the other boy had to say, but right now, he _really_ needed to pee.

“Well, then, think about it while I go take a piss, Luke,” Michael said, rolling his eyes.  Luke looked back up at him, then tugged his wrist, hard.  Michael stumbled forward, nearly headbutting Luke in the process.  He caught himself, his own face centimeters away from Luke’s, foreheads touching. “Oh…?”

“Can we kiss?” Luke asked.  His face was flushed and his eyes were glazed over from the alcohol.  Michael thought he probably shared the same features himself.  The younger boy’s blue eyes bore into Michael’s green ones.  The blue-haired boy caught himself staring at Luke’s lips, before pulling away abruptly.  Luke looked horribly disappointed for a second, and then Michael put his hands on either side of the blonde’s face, leaning down and planting a kiss on his boopy little nose.

“Yeah.  Yes.  But I’m serious, I really, _really_ need to pee.  _Right_ now.  So, as _soon_ as I get back,” Michael promised, backing away, hands clasped together in a praying motion.  Luke smiled after him.

* * *

 

“Ahhh!” Michael yelped, opening the bathroom door and finding Luke standing entirely too close, swaying a little.  Luke laughed at Michael’s fright, head thrown back in delight.  When he was done giggling at his own hilarity, he straightened, looking into Michael’s eyes.

“So…?” he asked shyly.  Michael smiled, taking Luke’s hands and closing the distance between them.  It was nice, just a normal, proper kiss, with the warm and fuzzy feelings and everything.  Michael slowly pulled away, opening his eyes, Luke doing the same.

“How romantic, kissing in front of the bathroom door.  Whoever’s throwing up in there right now will remember this moment fondly,” Michael joked, still holding onto Luke’s hands.  They swung their arms back and forth between them a few times, before Michael added, “…More…?  Somewhere else, though.”

Luke nodded, leading Michael off to— _somewhere else_.  Michael didn’t really remember getting into…well, _whoever’s_ bedroom they came to be in, or how it had escalated so quickly, but they were now heavily making out against the closed door, making their way to the bed.  Their hands were fisted in each other’s hair as they slid down together onto this poor person’s mattress.  It was sloppy and awkward, both of them clumsy from drinking too much, their teeth clacking together and tongues shoved into each other’s mouths like that gross couple at your high school.  It was _great_.

Michael rolled over on top of Luke, straddling him, Luke’s hand coming to rest on Michael’s ass, the other still tangled in his blue hair.  Eventually, Luke broke away, breathing hard, before diving back in, this time to leave a mark on Michael’s throat with his lips.  Michael let out a groan, grinding his hips down into the boy under him, Luke bucking back up in response.

“Fuck, _yes_ ,” Michael panted.  Luke’s mouth moved from Michael’s neck back to his lips for a brief moment, before pulling away a bit and nudging Michael in the chest for him to sit up a little. 

 _‘This is really happening,’_ Michael thought giddily, _‘This is really, really happening.’_

Luke’s fingers reached between them to undo Michael’s belt and unbutton his jeans.

 _‘This…is actually happening,’_ Michael thought, in a moment of clarity, _‘This is real life.  This is a real life event.  With real life consequences.’_   He suddenly felt…wrong. 

“Why the fuck d’your jeans have two fucking buttons,” Luke complained with a laugh, fumbling with the top one, his fingers slow to respond to his brain.  Michael grabbed him by the wrists, making the younger boy stop and look up at him in surprise.

“Stop.  We—we can’t.  We shouldn’t have done this.  You’re drunk,” Michael said, face serious.

“So are _you_.  C’mon, please,” Luke whined, rolling his hips upwards.  Michael put his more of his weight on him, stilling the blonde’s movements with a hand on his chest.

“I mean it.  I don’t want to do this.”

“But—you don’t want me?” Luke asked, eyebrows furrowed in worry and hurt. 

Michael _did_ , but he _couldn’t_ , and he knew he wouldn’t be able to articulate his feelings with the heavy cloud of alcohol settled over his brain’s inner dictionary, so he settled for a firm, _“No.”_

Luke looked absolutely crushed for a moment, before seeming to quickly train his face into impassiveness.  He looked down at Michael’s hand still on his chest, and peeled it off of him, throwing it to the side.

“Fine.  Then get off of me,” he hissed.  Michael really didn’t like the look on his face, so he didn’t move, hoping to placate him for the time being, until he knew how to make himself make _sense_.

“Please, don’t be upset, I—“

“Get.  _Off._ ”

“Luke, I just—“ Michael was hit in the chest by a fist, as Luke started to thrash violently, raising his voice with each word.

“Get off me, get off me, get _off, get off, GET. OFF!_ ” Luke nearly shrieked, finally forcefully shoving Michael away and stomping out of the room, slamming the door behind him.  Michael stumbled back a few feet from being pushed, and watched him leave. 

Well, _fuck._


	15. Eating Backwards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We've all been there.

Michael wandered out of the bedroom a few minutes later, venturing back downstairs where most of the other partygoers were hanging out.  Walking into the living room, he saw Luke laying on the couch, his head resting on some girl’s lap, her fingers carding through his hair while she giggled at something he said.  Michael scoffed and walked back out, opting to go into the basement where there was probably at least some pot to be smoked.

So, Luke didn’t actually _like_ him, then.  He had just wanted some attention.  _Cool._

* * *

 

Smoking turned out to be a bust, Michael only taking one hit before thinking, _‘Fuck it, I don’t even want to be high,’_ and spending about an hour pouting on the end of the threadbare sofa amongst the smokers.  He finally decided that he wanted to go _home_ , and that Luke _better_ be ready to go or he would just fucking leave him to find his own way back.

“Hey!  Kid with the blue hair!” Michael heard from behind him as he made his way through the living room, searching for his roommate.  It was the girl that Luke had been getting cozy with. “Are you, er, Mikey?  Or something?”

“I guess.” Michael muttered.

“Well, your boyfriend was looking for you because he didn’t feel good and wanted to go home.  I told him he could sit on the couch and I’d go find you, but he said he’d just call, uh, _Ashton?_   Does that name ring a bell?  And then I don’t know where he went,” the girl said, looking concerned.  Michael sighed.

“He’s not my—Ugh, never mind.  Alright, I’ll call him.  Thanks for your help,” he replied, pulling his phone out of his pocket.  There was a text from Luke already waiting for him, sent about a minute before the exchange.

 _“help,”_ it said.

“?” Michael sent back.

 _“help jelp elp help help ehelp help hlpe”_ he received in reply.  Michael’s chest tightened in worry.

“where r u???” Michael quickly sent.

 _“kfergrlkjkgjm bad bad bad bsabdb mfnv”_ was the reply.

And then

_“bathromvm”_

_“hekp me pukeV”_

_“waater”_

Michael left out a breath, relieved.  Luke was just throwing up somewhere, not being murdered.

“which bathroonb r u in?” He asked, apparently unable to type coherently himself.

 _“The,”_ Luke said,

_“lolll text predi ction f”_

_“im theowingb up”_

“WHERE?????” Michael sent, getting irritated.

 _“dontn come imso gross,”_ Luke replied, with about 20 crying emojis tacked on the end of the message.  Michael groaned in annoyance and went to check each bathroom.

Thankfully, Michael found Luke on the first try, in the bathroom next to the kitchen.  He was curled up on the floor in between the bathtub and the toilet, his phone pressed to his ear, tear-streaks marking his cheeks.

“What are you doing?” Michael asked, confused.  Luke ignored him, sniffling loudly.

“Ashton, I—“ Hiccup. “N—need a ride.  I’m so, s-so _saaad_ ,” Luke sobbed into the phone.

 _“Are you okay?  What’s wrong?”_ Michael heard Ashton say through the speaker.  He rushed in and took the phone from Luke.

“Ashton,” Michael greeted casually.

“Michael…?  What’s going on?  Why aren’t you guys home yet?” Ashton asked suspiciously.  It was a little past three in the morning.  They were usually back at the suite around an hour ago.

“We’re fine, just stayed at the party a little longer than we expected,” Michael replied innocently, while Luke reached weakly for the phone from the floor, whining the name _“Aaashtonnn”_ audibly.  Instead, he gripped Michael’s denim-covered leg, moaning unhappily.

“Why does Luke sound like an extremely drunk, sad toddler?” Ashton asked, deadpan.

“Well.  He is.  But he’s fine, I promise.  He’s just, I think, he got sick, and now he wants to go home.” The blue-haired boy explained.

“So, do you need a ride?” Michael could practically hear Ashton rub a hand tiredly over his face.  He shook his head, before realizing Ashton couldn’t see him.

“No, no.  We’ll be good to go soon, I promise,” Michael said.  He whipped around at the sound of Luke retching behind him, “I gotta go.  I’ll text you if anything comes up, really,” he finished, hanging up on his suitemate.

Luke was wailing over the toilet, whining about wanting his mom, or as he so eloquently put it, his _“mah—hahhh—hahhhhhmmmm”_. 

“Your mom’s at your house, in Washington, Luke.  She’s not here,” Michael reminded him, rolling his eyes.

“’M gonna call’er,” Luke slurred with a hiccup, reaching for the phone in Michael’s hands.

“No no no, you really don’t want to do that, believe me,” Michael reasoned, holding the phone an arm’s length away from the younger boy, “She’ll be really mad at you.  You can’t call her.”  Luke continued to make grabby hands at the iPhone, then gave up, putting his face back in the toilet bowl, sobbing anew.

“Why don’t you _care_ about me-e-e?!” Luke moaned, voice cracking, rocking back and forth.  Michael scoffed in reply.

The blonde looked like a complete fucking mess.  His red flannel was hanging off one shoulder, his hair was sticking out in every direction, his fly was down, his face was red and splotchy, there was snot dripping down his nose, his eyes were bloodshot, and there was a big wet spot on the front of his t-shirt where he must have spilled his drink as he rushed to the bathroom.

“ _Help_ me,” he sobbed at Michael.  Michael’s face softened and he kneeled next to Luke, placing a comforting hand on the younger boy’s back and starting to rub slow circles.  Luke flinched away violently, gasping, “Don’t touch me, I’mgonna _puke_.”

“Well, what the fuck do you want?!” Michael snapped, frustrated. 

“I don’t knooow, I don’t wannabe drunk anymore, Iwanna go back to _normal_ , please stop being mean to meee, I’m ss-sorry,” Luke whined, squeezing his eyes shut.  Michael sighed at the pathetic sight, ripping off a wad of toilet paper from the roll and wiping Luke’s sweaty face clean with it and letting him blow his nose.

“Did you already do the, uh, big-vom-dot-com?  Before I got here?” Michael asked.

 _“Mm-hmmm,”_ Luke hiccupped, nodding and wiping his face again with his flannel sleeve.

“Are you done puking, then?”

_“Mm-hmmm.”_

“Do you wanna go home now?”

“I want Ashton to pick us up,” Luke said, still trying to catch his breath from the nausea, “I can’t walk all the way back.”

Michael clenched his teeth.  He didn’t know what would happen if Ashton picked them up, _getting-into-trouble-wise._  

“It’s not that far—“ He tried to reason.

“I can’t, I can’t, _I can’t, I can’t,_ ” Luke gasped, panicky, burying his face in his knees.  Michael growled and re-dialed Ashton’s number from Luke’s phone.

* * *

 

The ride back was tense and silent, Ashton’s knuckles white, tightly clutching the steering wheel.  The only sounds were Luke in the back seat, quietly sipping water from a red solo cup.  Ashton pulled into his parking spot in the structure at the residence hall, speaking for the first time since picking them up from where they were sitting on the curb, about a block away from the actual party.

“Luke can walk by himself, right?” he asked quietly.  Michael nodded, and so did Luke.  Ashton breathed out deeply through his nose, then said, “Okay.  Good.  He’s going to ditch the cup, and then we’re all going to walk inside, and neither of you are going to say a word, you’re just going to follow me in, and you’re going to walk in straight lines without stumbling, and hopefully no one cares that you smell like booze and vomit.  Can you do that?”  The two boys nodded again, and Ashton finished with, “Good.”

Ashton ushered his two roommates into the suite, and then closed the door behind them, sighing.

“Are you both okay?” He asked finally. “Luke?”

“I mean, I’m not gonna die,” Luke said, scrubbing at his eye with the heel of his hand. 

“Yeah, maybe,” Michael joked under his breath, nudging Luke in the ribs.

“Shut up, Michael.” Ashton said, sighing again and running his hand through his hair.  “Now.  We’re all going to go to bed.  And we’re going to have a discussion about this tomorrow.  And Luke, you have a little upchuck on the front of your shirt.  You might want to change it.”

* * *

 

After changing into non-rum-or-puke-stained pajamas, Luke crawled into Michael’s bed, curling up next to him on the mattress, back facing Michael’s side.  It was quiet for a while, and Michael almost thought Luke had just fallen asleep, until he spoke.

“Michael?” Luke mumbled, turning around.

“Yeah?”

“I think I like you.” He said, looking Michael in the eyes.

“Er, I like you too, Luke,” Michael replied, slowly, not understanding.  Luke frowned, shaking his head.

“I _like_ you,” the taller boy repeated, with more emphasis.  Michael opened and closed his mouth a few times before answering.

“No you don’t,” Michael sighed.  There was no way.  Luke just felt bad, and was obviously just saying that because he didn’t know what else to do.

“Yes, I do,” Luke argued.

“No, you _don’t_ ,” Michael stated more firmly.  Luke raised both eyebrows at him, then wordlessly flipped around, turning his back to Michael, remaining silent until the two of them both fell asleep. 

Michael just hoped that when he woke up, everything _wouldn’t_ be ruined.


	16. Miscommunication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They really are something, aren't they?

Michael woke up sometime the next day to the too-bright sun in his eyes and a flurry of long limbs scrambling over him.  He opened his eyes to see Luke flinging himself out of bed and heard his feet slapping harshly against the floor as he ran to the bathroom, the door swinging open and smacking the wall with force.  He then enjoyed the soothing sounds of his roommate violently tossing his cookies through the paper-thin walls.  _Ahhh, Friday mornings._

Michael contentedly noted that he, himself, wasn’t actually feeling all that terrible, considering…what happened last night.

What happened last night.

The blue-haired boy felt like his stomach was tying itself into knots.  He didn’t know if anything was particularly _ruined_ from the night before, but he felt that something was going to _change._   Which was nearly as bad; change threatened to ruin his comfortable and familiar routine of life.

Eventually, as Michael began to spiral down into a void of panic and darkness, Luke re-entered the room, a bottle of Gatorade appropriated from Calum’s minifridge in hand.  His eyes were red-rimmed and his cheeks pale as he moved to climb into his own bunk, probably to nest for at least the next 24 hours.  Michael’s mouth was dry and he wasn’t sure what sort of words were going to come out, but he needed to take care of this.  Now.

“Luke?” He ventured, his voice cracking awkwardly.  _Damn it._   Luke froze, looking at Michael like a deer caught in headlights, and said nothing, like he hoped Michael would lose interest if he just didn’t move.  _Uh?_   “Can we talk?  About…?”

“Yeah, I’m really sorry about that, just, please, can we not, uh, just, don’t tell anyone, please,” Luke said in a rush, hands tightening around the bottle of Gatorade.  _Oh._

“You…don’t want to talk about it…?” Michael breathed, chest constricting painfully.

“I’m really sorry it happened, I don’t know what I was thinking.  _Please,_ don’t say anything about it to anyone,” Luke explained, grimacing.

_Oh!_   Swallowing the lump in his throat, Michael narrowed his eyes at the younger boy.  Of fucking _course_ this would happen.  He didn’t know why he even _entertained_ the thought that Luke would be different.  Michael had experienced this more than once—hooking up with a boy only to find out the next day that they are, in fact, straight, and just got a little too drunk, and no one can ever know what happened, and he wouldn’t be seeing them again, _sorry dipshit._

“And why _shouldn’t_ I tell anyone?” Michael asked, sliding out of bed and approaching the taller boy, who took a physical step away.  He _wouldn’t_ tell anyone, of course, but he didn’t like getting fucked over and he wanted to watch Luke squirm.  He continued nastily, “Why shouldn’t I go pound on Ashton’s door and tell them _both_ how you were practically _begging_ me to fuck you, and when _I_ rejected _you,_ you went and cried in the bathroom?”

Luke grew paler still, staring at Michael with wide eyes, “That’s not how it— You can’t—“

“I _can._ ” Michael sneered, pushing past Luke, bumping shoulders with the blonde, moving towards the bedroom door as if he were about to go fucking do it right then.  Luke grabbed Michael by the arm and spun him back around.

“Michael—“ He started, before Michael yanked his arm out of Luke’s grip.

“Don’t touch me, asshole!” Michael snapped, giving Luke a shove in the chest.

“You’re the asshole!  You’re being a dick and you won’t let me talk!” Luke nearly shouted back at him, shoving back.  Michael balled his hands into fists, but didn’t move.

“Then talk,” he said with gritted teeth.  Luke opened his mouth to speak, but his attention was diverted by a knock at the door.  Michael took the door handle, allowing the intruder to intrude.

“I heard you guys were finally up, so get dressed and come on.  We’re all going out for breakfast,” Ashton stated simply, poking his head through the doorframe.

“I’m not _hungry_ ,” Michael said irritably, crossing his arms.  Ashton’s friendly expression faltered.

“ _I_ wasn’t _awake_ last night when I had to pick your drunk asses up from that party, so put some fucking pants on and get moving!” Ashton demanded, raising his voice.  Michael and Luke stared at him, slack-jawed, and he placed a hand gently on his own chest, surprised at his own outburst.  He cleared his throat, then continued, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.  Be ready in 15, I’m paying.”

* * *

The car ride was full of a whole lot of silence.  Michael called ‘shotgun’, leaving Calum, who had arrived home earlier that morning, and Luke to sit quietly in the back.  The last time Calum had seen the pair, they were cuddling on the couch at the party, so he knew something must have gone awry, based on their body language and the fact that they refused to look at or speak to each other.   


“Hey, what happened last night?  Is everything okay?” Michael heard Calum whisper to Luke in the backseat of the car, straining his ears to hear over the song playing on the car radio.  He watched in the rearview mirror as Luke mumbled a mostly-incoherent ‘Everything’s fine,’ excuse, and hunched further into himself, eyes glued to the screen of his phone to avoid eye contact with the brunette.

Michael managed to pull himself out of his sour mood by the time they arrived to Ashton’s choice of breakfast dining, deciding that _he_ had no reason to be upset or uncomfortable, and if _Luke_ was going to be that way, it was his own problem.  Still, he couldn’t avoid Calum’s inquisitive gaze and gestures towards Luke, who spent the majority of breakfast pushing food around his plate and looking rather ill, quickly glancing up at Michael each time he spoke, as if the older boy was about to spill his secrets in between discussing why they should really take alcohol safety more seriously at any future gatherings.  Michael shrugged.  He’d deal with it later.

An iPhone buzzed on top of the table.  It was Michael’s.  He looked surprised because, uh, all the people who text him were already at the table in person.  He saw Calum looking at him expectantly, then looked at the screen.  Oh.  The text was _from_ Calum.

“what happened.  why is this weird.” Calum’s message said.

“nothing,” Michael lied.  Calum raised an eyebrow at him.

“you’re a liar tell me >:( “ Calum said.

“no :P “ Michael sent back.  Calum glared at Michael, then glanced over at Luke, which turned out to be the wrong thing to do.  Luke immediately realized that the other two were texting each other, and began fidgeting nervously with the ring on his pinky, staring at Michael’s typing fingers, as if he would suddenly obtain X-ray vision and be able to read the message through the back of the phone case.

“michael =/ “ Calum sent.

“luke’s straight.  thats it,” Michael finally admitted, with an accompanying exasperated-looking emoji.

“oh.  sorry buddy :( “ Calum responded, giving him an apologetic look.  Michael shrugged and shook his head, putting his phone into the front pocket of his jeans, hands shaking slightly.  Michael then turned his attention towards Luke, who was still watching him worriedly.

“What are you staring at?” Michael snapped, interrupting Ashton, who had been going on a tangent about something or other, oblivious to the exchanges going on around him until that point.  Luke looked away quickly, muttering a quiet “Nothing,” and abandoning his farce of pretending to eat his meal completely, putting his arms down on the table and hiding his head in them.  Ashton glanced between Calum and Michael questioningly, who shrugged and went back to scarfing down their plates full of food.

“Michael,” Ashton said slowly, a moment later.  Michael looked up at him.

“Yeah…?” Michael asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You didn’t do a very good job at covering up that hickey,” Ashton teased in a friendly way, nudging him in the side.  Luke jerked upright, eyes bulging, and excused himself to the bathroom.  Calum choked on his food, nearly spitting out a mouthful of pancakes.  Shit.  Calum _knew._

_‘Really?!’_ Calum mouthed at Michael, incredulous.  Michael laughed nervously, rubbing a hand over the back of his own neck.

“Crazy night, last night,” he explained cryptically, offering no other explanation to his suitemates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nice stuff is on its way soon I promise lmaooo


	17. Correction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Idiots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small warning for this chapter: mentions of a minor in an arguably non-consensual sexual situation and homophobia. It's like, a short paragraph.

Luke nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Michael closing their bedroom door behind them after their return to the residence hall.  Michael sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.  This was already getting old and it had only been a few hours.

“Look, I’m not actually going to tell anyone, alright?  I’m not that much of a dick.  I just wanted to piss you off, I didn’t think you’d go all _weird_ on me,” Michael explained.

“I’m really sorry I came on to you in the first place, I just thought—I don’t know, it’s stupid,” Luke started hesitantly, chewing on his lip ring.

“What?  _What_ did you think?” Michael asked skeptically, crossing his arms.

“I thought—I had a stupid _crush_ on you, and I thought—maybe, that you liked me back,” Luke groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

Wait, _what?_

_Whaaat??_

“What??” Michael breathed, eyes wide.  He searched Luke’s face for the lie, and found none.  His brain short-circuited.  What the _hell??_   What the _fuck_ was happening??

“But it was just the alcohol making you all cuddly like normal and I was _stupid_ and _drunk_ and misread it and saw what I wanted to see, and I shouldn’t have done anything because I knew you wouldn’t like me like that, and this is _exactly_ what happened last time—“

“What do you mean?” Michael asked, still slack-jawed in disbelief.  Luke laughed nervously, walking widely around Michael and curling up in a ball on the edge of the bed, hugging a pillow to his chest protectively, staring at the floor from where he perched.  Michael continued, “I’m not upset anymore, I just want to know.”

Luke licked his lips, then took a huge breath before beginning.

“Two years ago, uh, that would be my junior year, and you probably would have been a senior, unless you skipped a grade or something, which, I don’t know, you seem _smart_ enough to—“

“I get it, two years ago, get on with it,” Michael laughed lightly, gently patting Luke on the shoulder, taking a seat beside him on the mattress.

“Right.  So anyway, I had this… _thing,_ with a boy.  Like, he knew I liked him but he didn’t really acknowledge it except for flirting back.  Anyway, he invited me to go to this party with him, and I ended up getting super drunk.  And, I don’t really remember, but we started—uh, we, er, were doing… _stuff,_ and umm, _things,_ and—he took a picture of me while I was blowing him and sent it to everyone,” Luke mumbled the last bit, burying his face in the pillow he was clutching tightly. “And he _laughed_ at me for thinking he would like me, and told everyone I was a _fucking faggot,_ and it got posted on Facebook, and Twitter, and Instagram, and whatever else, and my _parents_ saw it, and my _brothers,_ and my _teachers,_ and I told them it was Photoshopped but they didn’t believe me, and the police got involved, but, um, uh, yeah.  And that’s why there were all those comments on my Youtube videos…  So, uh, yeah… that’s what happened.  It _sucked_.  And I’d just prefer if it _didn’t_ happen again.”

Michael stared at him, wide-eyed in shock.

“That’s so fucking _evil!_   But—wait.  Didn’t he kind of shoot himself in the foot there?  By outing you, didn’t he kind of out himself as well?” Michael asked.  Luke shook his head.

“It was taken from above, there was nothing identifiable about himself in the picture— he told everyone he got it from _‘a source on Snapchat that preferred to remain anonymous’_ … ” Luke clarified miserably, speaking into the fabric of the pillow.  Michael put his arms around the younger boy, resting his cheek on Luke’s shoulder.  Luke leaned into the bodily contact, but didn’t reveal his face.

“I’m really sorry that happened.  That’s honestly the most evil shit I can think of,” Michael said, “I really wouldn’t do that, I promise.  What a fucking dick move.  I wouldn’t do that, even if I hated your fucking guts.”

“I believe you,” Luke mumbled, “I was just scared when you got so angry about it...you wouldn’t let me explain, and I thought…”

“I know.  Sorry,” Michael said into the younger boy’s shoulder, “I was freaking out and I jumped to conclusions.”

“I feel like shit,” Luke admitted after a moment of silence, finally looking up, “Mentally and physically.  I can’t _believe_ I had to even leave my bed today.”

“You wanna take a nap?  And have a cuddle?” Michael offered.  Luke looked away, cheeks turning pink.

“I wouldn’t want to make you feel awkward… now that…you know how I am…”

“Luke, from what I remember, making out with you was, uh, really good.  I _liked_ it,” Michael explained quickly, “And I like—um, _you,_ as well,” he finished lamely.  Luke snapped his head over to look at him, eyebrows raised.

“You’re not just saying that, are you?” It was Michael’s turn to blush, suddenly feeling shy.

“I—no, of course not.  I’ve, uh, had a stupid, er, crush on you for…um, for a while,” he replied, covering his mouth and nose with a sleeve-covered hand.

“Why didn’t you say anything?  We could have avoided this whole thing!” Luke complained, punching Michael in the shoulder, _mostly_ playfully.

“I thought you were straight!” Michael retorted, “And then when you didn’t want to talk about our _thing_ , I thought you were one of those _‘I’ll make out with a dude but no homo haha’_ guys!”

Luke groaned aloud, letting himself fall backwards onto the bed, bringing Michael with him.  They bounced a little as they hit the mattress, then rearranged themselves into a better ‘cuddly nap’ position, Michael’s chin resting on top of Luke’s head, his arms around Luke’s torso with Luke holding onto the pillow between them.

“We are _so bad_ at communication!  We’re fucking _idiots!_ ” Luke whined, laughing, finally throwing the pillow aside to draw himself closer to Michael’s chest, snuggling inwards.  He wrapped his legs around Michael’s hips, clutching onto the older boy koala-style. 

“I know, we fucking suck.” Michael chuckled, twirling a strand of Luke’s hair between his fingers.  They were holding each other more intimately than any time before, but it wasn’t _scary_ or _uncomfortable_ , in Michael’s opinion.  It was just _correct_ , like this was how they were supposed to do it, how they should have been holding each other since that first night that they stayed up late watching 90s chick flicks.

“How long?” Michael asked, “When did you first start liking me?” 

“Uh, um, like, uh, I mean, I thought you were cute as soon as I found you on Facebook,” Luke stuttered embarrassedly, “And I just thought, uh, that you were really cool right away.  So maybe, um, the second week or so of living here…a little before that second Netflix night with just us and Ashton.  I wanted excuses to be close to you.”

“That’s cute as balls, Luke,” Michael cuddled the other boy, squeezing him affectionately and smiling.

“Can we, uh, hammer out the details of all this, uh, _stuff,_ like, tomorrow, or something?  I just kind of want to chill out for at least the rest of the day,” Luke murmured against Michael’s collarbone.

“Yeah, of course.  We just have big dumb crushes on each other and we’re snuggling, no need to make it complicated for now,” Michael sighed happily, moving his hand to trace shapes on the blonde’s hoodie-covered back.

“Mm, good,” Luke breathed, closing his eyes.  Michael continued his movements until he felt Luke relax completely, and heard his breathing become slow and even, felt the warm puffs of air against his neck.

 _‘This is good.  This is right,’_ Michael thought contentedly, shutting his own eyes for what was to become a 4-hour drool-filled nasty-morning-breath-in-the-early-evening sweaty-gross— yet satisfying— hangover-soothing nap.


	18. DTR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Defining the relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disgusting fluff just like you wanted !!

“Ss-so, what, um, wh—what, uh,” Luke cleared his throat, drumming his fingers on the tabletop, “Um, so, uh, what—“

“Can you spit it out?” Michael giggled, sipping from the straw sticking out of his cup of soda. 

They had gone to see some shitty action movie, and decided a trip to the park was in order afterwards.  They strolled across the grass, yellow and red leaves crunching beneath their feet, before reaching the wooden park bench, where Michael was currently resting his elbows, with his chin in his hands.

“What are we?” Luke finally asked, looking distinctly to his left and _not_ at Michael.  Michael sucked in a breath, inhaling his soda and nearly swallowing his straw.

_“What?”_ He coughed, eyes watering.

“I asked, what…are we…?” Luke repeated, more hesitantly.  Michael took a few deep breaths, collecting himself, before answering.

“Uh, I dunno, what— what do you wanna be?” Michael redirected the question back at the blonde.  Luke shrugged, kicking Michael’s shin under the table.

“I dunno,” he replied quietly.

“Do—do you want to be, like, _exclusive?_   ‘Cause… ‘cause _I’d_ like that,” Michael said, reaching across the table to play with Luke’s fingers.

“Yeah,” Luke replied, “I don’t want to be with anyone else.”  Michael stopped, taken aback, and swallowed audibly. “What—what’s wrong?  Was that weird or too forward or something?” Luke asked with a grimace, starting to pull back.

“No, no, I just— you’re _so_ …” Michael squirmed, nervous but so _happy_ he felt like he could burst into tears, “I really really _like_ you.  You make me feel a bunch of weird icky mushy stuff,” he explained, taking both of Luke’s hands in his.

“I hope you mean that in a good way,” Luke laughed, locking their fingers together.  The older boy nodded enthusiastically.

“Are we—are we gonna be…Facebook official?  Facebook boyfriends?” Michael half-joked, smirking.

“You want to be Facebook official…with _me?_ ” The blonde asked genuinely, which made Michael feel a little sad, “You want to be _my_ boyfriend?”

“Well, yeah,” Michael said slyly, “I know it’s gotta be tough for _you,_ lowering your standards this far, but personally _I_ can’t _wait_ to show you off.”

“Shut up,” Luke giggled, “Are Ashton and Calum gonna think this is weird…?”

“Calum already knows.  I mean, I told him I liked you, but as of current he thinks you’re straight and that I’m disappointed.  But he thought I should go for it,” Michael explained, “And I doubt Ashton’s got anything negative to say, he’s a ray of constant sunshine and supportiveness.”

“Yeah,” Luke agreed, nodding, “So…I’m gonna send you a Facebook relationship request, and if you don’t accept it, I’m moving out of our room and I’m sleeping in the bathroom from now on.”

“I’m gonna send you one _first!_ ” Michael shouted, snatching his hands away from Luke’s and whipping out his phone.

“No!” Luke shrieked, leaping halfway across the table to wrestle Michael’s phone out of his hands, batting it away into a nearby pile of leaves.  Michael sucked in a breath.

“You realize what that means, right?” Michael asked, feigning annoyance and rising from his seat, “Now we’re gonna have to jump into that pile of leaves to find my phone.”

“No, it’s probably moist and gross,” Luke argued, “Leaf piles are never as crunchy and fun as they appear.”

Michael ignored him, grabbing the younger boy by the shoulders and hauling him upright, throwing him into the mass of foliage and tossing himself in immediately afterwards.  After rolling around for a few minutes, Luke whining and bitching about being stabbed by twigs and feeling like there were nonexistent bugs on him, Michael found himself hovering over the blonde, propped up on his elbows.

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this,” Michael breathed coyly, face inches from Luke’s, hoping his breath didn’t smell rank.

“You are so _stupid_ , shut the fuck up,” Luke cried with a laugh, slapping Michael in the chest.

“Make me,” he replied, coming closer to the other boy’s face with kissy lips, _“Mwah mwah mwah mwah!”_   Luke squealed, scrunching up his nose and turning his face away from Michael’s wet mouth, which ended up peppering Luke’s face with yucky sloppy playful kisses, before moving down to the taller boy’s neck and sucking on his throat somewhere near his collarbone, making Luke groan.

“We’re in _public,_ Mikey.  At the _park,_ ” Luke protested half-heartedly, running his hands up and down the other’s sides, then gripping the fabric of his sweater.

“Mmhmmm,” Michael agreed, and then, when he came up for air, “We’re literally like two of five people in this _whole_ huge park; it’s fucking _cold_ out.  And it’s not like we’re fucking or anything, I’m not gonna just whip my dick out or whatever.”

“Yeah,” Luke sighed, “Gimme a kiss.” Michael obliged, then rolled off the younger boy to lay next to him in the heap of leaves.  He shivered, then snuggled in closer.

“I love fall,” Michael said, wrapping his arms around Luke’s torso.

“I love _this,_ ” Luke replied, then sat up, as if just noticing something.  He reached and dug around underneath himself, pulling out Michael’s phone, which was now sporting a cracked screen, “Oh.  Found your phone.  I thought it was a rock."

* * *

 

_Bzz._  The vibration came from Luke’s phone; a Facebook notification.

_Ashton Irwin liked your relationship status._

Luke stiffened suddenly against Michael’s side from where they were huddled together on a couch in a local coffee shop, mugs of hot chocolate on the table in front of them.

“What?” Michael asked, receiving the same notification.

“What if we shouldn’t have put it on Facebook for everyone to see?” Luke suggested, sitting up straighter and leaning forward.

“What do you mean?  Why not?” Michael replied, confused, “You _know_ Ashton’s not liking it to be mean or whatever.”

“No, I just, what if,” Luke started to wring his hands with anxiety, so he grabbed onto his mug with both to keep them busy, “What if, _other_ people are mean about it?”  The older boy sat up as well, attempting to look Luke in the eyes as much as possible.

“Like your family?” he asked seriously, “Do they know you’re not straight?”  Luke scoffed at that.

“I mean, once there’s a picture going around of your son with a dick in his mouth, you kind of just assume…”

“Right.  Sorry.  But—was the dick _itself_ the problem?  Er, I guess I’m asking, were they accepting, otherwise?”

Luke nodded.

“So?  Are you worried about people from your high school seeing it and leaving dumbass comments or whatever the fuck?”

Luke looked down, cheeks invisible but the tips of his ears were pink.

“Y—yeah, I guess,” he admitted.

“Well, who the fuck cares?” Michael asked bluntly.  Luke looked up, searching the blue-haired boy’s face.

“What?”

“Who the fuck cares what some shitty ass people from your bumfuck nowhere high school think of you?  They don’t fucking matter.”

“Who—who the fuck…” Luke huffed out a laugh, “’Who the fuck cares?’” His face broke into a smile, “Who the fuck cares!” he repeated, laughing again, giddily.  Michael smiled at him, placing a comforting hand on his back, which Luke leaned into, closing his eyes peacefully.

“They’re there, and we’re here.  Your friends accept you, and your family accepts you.  And we have your back.  And no one else is worth worrying about.  If anyone acts shitty to you, you can bet I’m going to go apeshit on them and like, leak their fucking phone number all over the internet or something.  It’ll be great.”

* * *

 

“Hey!  Saw you guys finally made it Facebook official!” Ashton exclaimed, greeting the pair as they entered the floor kitchen, hand in hand _just because they could_ , where the RA was making pasta for dinner.

“ _’Finally’?_ ” Michael repeated, raising an eyebrow.  Ashton stopped what he was doing at the stove, turning down the heat and setting his spatula aside after dumping the contents of the frying pan into a large bowl.

“Well, yeah, I mean…it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Uh, no?” Michael replied, “We literally just made this a _thing_ , like, yesterday.”

Ashton stared at him, then to Luke, then back to Michael, then turned around towards the kitchen counter, busying himself with chopping up vegetables.

“Oh.  My bad, I guess,” he said, beginning to whistle while he worked. “So, I saw this crazy video on the internet the other day—“

“No, what’s that supposed to mean?” Michael pressed, not letting him change the subject.  Ashton looked at him, considering for a moment.

“Oh, nothing, I just, you know, thought, from the way Luke’s been acting for pretty much the entire time you’ve been living together, that he was super invested in the relationship, but you were just a more private person so you wanted to keep it more low-key,” the curly haired boy explained with a shrug, “Like, Luke was overly obvious and you were overly subtle.”

“Seriously?!” Michael groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation and twisting to face Luke, “Seriously, did _everyone_ know you liked me, except for _me_?!”

Luke’s face flushed and he looked at his shoes, stepping one foot on top of the other and clasping his hands behind his back shyly.

“I didn’t know I was being that obvious either,” he mumbled to the linoleum floor.  Luke looked back up, only to see Michael staring at him. “What are you looking at?”

Michael clenched and unclenched his fists for a moment, before rushing forwards to squeeze Luke in a crushing embrace, which Luke returned with an equal amount of force, though confused.

“You are so fucking _cute!_ ” Michael squealed, leaning back, lifting Luke so his toes barely reached the floor, “And I finally get to do _this_ whenever I want!” he finished, twisting back and forth, Luke’s body being jostled to and fro, giggles erupting from the younger boy.


	19. Tonight You're Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wanna fall in love with the stars in your eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE: NOTICE THE ADDED TAGS AND RATING CHANGE. THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SEXUAL CONTENT (between two consenting adults)! 
> 
> I didn't know this was going to happen in this chapter...And I'm sooooo sorry I have NEVER written ANYTHING like this before but I think it turned out alright considering..........I was getting so embarrassed writing it my roommate was like "uhhhh what are you doing" and I was like UMMMMMMMM N-NOTHING...JUST SOME HOMEWORK....HAHA..

“God, why is it so fucking _hot_ in here?!” Michael grumbled, throwing the last sheet covering himself and Luke aside, leaving the bed bare of all linens. “It’s fucking _October!_ ”

“They must’ve finally turned the heat on in the building,” Luke explained, cheek pressed to Michael’s chest, his head tucked under the other’s chin. “Just, take your pants off or something.”

Michael groaned, “I feel like that would be weird.”

“I’ll take mine off too, if you want.  So you won’t just be pants-less in bed with me,” Luke offered, blue eyes peeking up at Michael through his eyelashes.

“I—I mean, if you’re comfortable with that,” Michael replied, “Then that’d be good.”

Luke nodded wordlessly, shifting to undo the drawstring of his black joggers, pulling them down and tossing them over the side of the bed, Michael doing the same with his Guitar Hero pajama pants _(shut up, they were a Christmas gift and they happened to be comfortable)_ , leaving them both in t-shirts and boxers.

“Better?” Luke asked, “Your legs are hairy.”

“Shut up, so are yours,” Michael retorted, “But yeah,” he conceded, sighing deeply and closing his eyes, attempting to fall asleep for hopefully the last time that night.

A minute passed.

Five minutes.

Fifteen minutes.

_Thirty_ minutes.

Michael exhaled deeply through his nose, sounding a little like an angry bull.  He squirmed, trying to find a position where he was comfortable through the unbearable heat, sitting up and flipping the pillow over to the “cool side”.  Luke shifted, opening his eyes a crack and making a confused sound.

“Still too hot?” He mumbled, words slurred a little from sleepiness.

“Yeah,” Michael growled unhappily, frowning up at the bunk above him.

“I can go sleep in my own bed if you want, it’s not a big deal,” Luke said, rubbing his eyes and sitting up.  Michael tugged on his arm, pulling him back down onto the pillows.

“Nonono, I want you to stay,” the older boy protested, “I’ll just…take off my shirt.  I hope you’re not offended by my glowing pasty skin or hairy armpits.”

“’S fine,” Luke yawned, Michael tugging his shirt over his shoulders and throwing it onto a nearby desk chair.  Michael settled back in, finally seeming content.

“Are _you_ gonna take off your shirt too?” the blue-haired boy asked suggestively.  He looked over at Luke, whose bed-ruffled head laid on the pillow next to his, wiggling his eyebrows at the other boy.  Luke ran a hand through his own hair, sighing.

“No.  You don’t want to see that.”

“ _Yeah_ I do,” Michael said with a grin, “You look so good.”

“Well, I don’t _want_ to take my shirt off,” Luke said, pulling a nearby pillow over his chest and crossing his arms over it.  Michael’s smile dropped, expression turning serious.

“That’s—that’s fine,” he said, his smile returning after a moment, leaning over to press a kiss onto the top of Luke’s messy hair, “I’m just saying.  You’re _hot_.”

Luke stifled his own grin, slapping Michael in the shoulder.

“ _You’re_ hot,” he corrected, wrapping his arms around Michael’s neck and pulling him closer, their lips connecting.  Luke slowly rolled on top of Michael, tucking the pillow neatly behind the older boy’s head, propping him up further.  Michael decided to add tongue to the mix, making Luke moan into his mouth.  Michael also became suddenly aware of Luke’s half-interested cock prodding at his thigh, his own hardening at the realization.

“You’re not helping the _‘sweaty Michael’_ situation, you know,” the older boy panted, “But I forgive you.”

Luke chuckled, fingers trailing down Michael’s bare torso until reaching the waistband of his boxers, his hands stopping there.

“Is this okay?” he questioned, tugging lightly at the elastic, looking Michael in the eyes.  Michael swallowed, nodding enthusiastically.

“Yeah.  Fuck yeah,” Michael agreed, rolling his hips upwards in encouragement. 

Luke smirked at him, pulling the boxers down his legs and tossing them on the mattress behind him, leaving the blue-haired boy naked, sprawled on the bed.  He kissed Michael again, then leaned back, moving to kneel between Michael’s open thighs.  Luke smiled up at him, biting his lip, before tentatively reaching out to brush his fingers against Michael’s exposed cock.  Michael jumped at the contact, bucking up into Luke’s hand.

“Fuck!” he groaned loudly.

“ _Shh!_ ” Luke scolded through grit teeth, waving his free hand in Michael’s face urgently, while wrapping the other fully around his boyfriend’s dick, “It’s two in the fucking morning!”

“Sorry,” Michael said in a loud whisper, giggling before covering his mouth with both hands, Luke giving him a mock-stern look.

The blonde ran his thumb over the head of Michael’s cock, pumping his now-fully hard member twice before scooting his body farther down the bed, leaning further down to run the flat of his tongue down Michael’s length a few times and teased the tip, causing Michael to moan into his hands, then taking the whole thing into his mouth.  Michael’s hands flew down to the bedsheets, groaning obscenely when the tip hit the back of Luke’s throat. 

“Fuck— _Luke, fuck_ — _so_ good.”

Luke gagged after a bit, tears springing to his eyes, pulling back a centimeter or two to avoid the danger of throwing up on his boyfriend’s crotch.  How fucking embarrassing would _that_ be?  He glared at Michael through teary blue eyes for that wholly unnecessary amount of noise he’d made, then reached forward, untangling Michael’s hands from the sheets and lacing their fingers together instead.  Luke swirled his tongue, making a vulgar slurping sound as he bobbed his head up and down, Michael thrusting his hips to meet the rhythm. 

“Oh—fuck— _Luke, Luke_ —“ Michael panted, untangling one of his hands to grip Luke’s hair insistently, causing the younger boy to look back up at him, “I—I’m gonna cum, Luke—“

“Uh-huh,” Luke replied in acknowledgement, pulling off completely and licking one long stripe up the length before diving back in.  The hand that was in his hair flew back up to Michael’s mouth, muffling his moan of Luke’s name as he came in the blonde’s mouth, hips stuttering, eyes screwed shut.

When Michael came back to himself and opened his eyes, Luke was crawling back up the bed toward him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.  Luke kissed him, then flopped down on the pillow next to him, Michael turning his head so they were laying forehead to forehead, looking into each other’s eyes.

“You’re _so_ hot,” Michael said finally, after catching his breath.  Luke smiled, and Michael reached down to palm the tent in Luke’s boxers. “Can I?” 

“Yeah,” Luke said breathlessly, and Michael dipped his hand under the waistband and pulled Luke’s hard length out from below the fabric, stroking it gently and running the palm of his hand over the tip before taking it in his fist and pumping it. 

“You’re letting me give you a handy but you won’t take off your shirt?” Michael smirked at the blonde, who let out a laugh that sounded more like a moan, Michael feeling the hot puff of breath on his cheek.

“I’m s—still wearing my sssocks, too—nnngh,” Luke joked, closing his eyes and taking his lip ring between his teeth.  Michael smiled warmly, reaching up with his free hand to brush Luke’s sweaty hair away from his face, kissing him on the nose.

“So pretty, baby,” he said softly, quickening his movements.

“Mmmm, _you’re_ pretty,” Luke countered in a gasping breath.

“You don’t have very good comebacks, do you?” Michael teased.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck _fuck_ , _hahhh_ , Mikey,” Luke whimpered, fucking himself into Michael’s hand.  Michael sped up, pumping him even faster, watching Luke intently as he came undone, looking thoroughly debauched, eyelashes fanned across his cheeks, face flushed red, mouth open in an ‘O’ shape.  “Oh fuck, oh _fuck, oh_ —“ 

He came with a whine, thrusting a few more times, covering Michael’s hand and the bottom of his t-shirt with stripes of white.  He went limp, burying his face in the crook of Michael’s shoulder, panting.  Michael continued to stroke him slowly until he squirmed away from oversensitivity.  They laid there for a while, chests heaving, before Michael gently pulled Luke’s boxers back up for him, and kissed him on the forehead.

“Well,” Michael said, clearing his throat, “I’m, uh, gonna go wash my hands and grab a wet towel before we fall asleep and wake up crusty and sticky and horrible-smelling.”

Luke rolled away, allowing Michael to sit up and grab his own underwear, but pouted, making grabby hands at him when he swung his legs over the side of the bed and put them on.

“Nooo, stay,” the younger boy protested with a frown.  Michael chuckled and ruffled his hair with his clean hand.

“Two minutes.  I’ll be right back, you’ll thank me when you don’t feel like a ball of grime tomorrow morning.”

* * *

 

Calum was coming out of the bathroom as Michael prepared to go in.  Michael froze, hiding his still-splooge-covered hand behind his back.  Calum stilled at well, staring at him.

“Hey.” Michael said, as casually as he could.  The look the brunette was giving him told him that he _knew_ though.  The encounter was unsalvageable.

“Hey,” Calum said awkwardly, “Uh, you guys, uh, you, uh… you woke me up.  Or, rather, _Luke_ woke me up,” he finished, scratching the back of his head and staring at the floor.  _Shit.  Gross!_

“I’m so fucking _sorry,_ ” Michael apologized, eyes wide, “I’m _so_ —“

Calum’s face broke into a smile, and he laughed.

“It _was_ fucking gross.  But also _hilarious_ , so I’ll forgive you, _just this once_.  But I don’t think I’ll ever get that mental image out of my mind, so if I end up with nightmares, you’re paying for my therapy,” Calum teased, putting up a hand for a fist-bump before thinking better of it and shaking his head.  “Never mind, no bro-fist.  I don’t know where your hands have been.  G’night.”

“Good thinking.” Michael said after him, as he disappeared into his own room.

* * *

 

Michael returned to the room with a cool, damp bath towel for Luke after cleaning himself off in the bathroom.  Luke was nearly asleep, groaning sleepily as Michael shifted him, first wiping his face with the towel, making him scrunch up his nose, and then pulling his now-dirty boxers off and replacing them with a _most-likely-a-little-cleaner_ pair from Luke’s hamper.  He lifted the hem of Luke’s shirt a little to wipe off the spunk that had spilled onto his skin and pulled it back down, dabbing at the stained fabric.

“Luke,” Michael whispered, “Your shirt’s gross.  Wanna change it?”

“Mmm, yeah,” Luke yawned, stretching, but not getting up.  Michael sighed.

“Which shirt do you want?”

“Don’t care,” the younger boy sighed, eyes still closed, arms pulled overhead, exposing a bit of his tummy and happy trail.  Michael rolled his eyes.  _Why was he so endearing?_   He chose at random, ending up with a soft, worn Green Day shirt. 

“You’re not moving,” Michael noted, returning to Luke’s side with the shirt in hand.  Luke shook his head. “Want me to put it on you?”  Luke nodded softly, opening his eyes a crack.

“If _you’re_ okay with that,” he whispered.  Michael nodded back at him, pulling Luke to sit up, letting him lean over Michael’s shoulder while he pulled the dirty t-shirt over Luke’s back, careful not to let the gross part touch Luke’s skin or hair.  He leaned Luke back a little to get the shirt all the way off, then helped him replace it with the clean _(er)_ one.  Michael was careful not to stare for too long at Luke’s body, not wanting him to feel self-conscious after allowing himself to be revealed, but Michael couldn’t see anything wrong anyway.  Luke was perfect.

Settling back into bed, bodies entangled with one another’s, Luke spoke.

“You’re perfect,” he said softly, rubbing Michael’s back with both hands.

“I was thinking the same thing about you,” Michael replied, returning the favor.

“Sounds like we _both_ need to come up with more original material for compliments,” Luke mumbled, closing his eyes, body melting into Michael’s.

“But,” Michael countered, shutting his own eyes, “This _is_ perfect.”  He earned a contented sigh in reply.


	20. Costume Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weirdest thing happened to me the other day...

“I jussst wannago home ‘nd watch scary movies with you,” Luke whined, tugging on the sleeve of Michael’s purple blazer.  “I don’t think I’m in the mood to be out tonight.”

Michael smiled, taking Luke’s black faux-leather gloved hand in his own, thoroughly endeared by the sight of his boyfriend’s alcohol-flushed face and obvious craving for cuddles.

“Sure, whatever you want.”

“’M sorry, it’s Halloween and I’m ruining your fun,” Luke apologized with a frown.

“Babe, we’ve been doing Halloween shit all day today and yesterday,” Michael said, bringing Luke’s hand up to his mouth and placing a kiss on the knuckles, leaving behind lines of red face paint, “Chilling out at home definitely sounds good right now.  Besides, this costume makes me look like a serial killer.”

Michael was dressed as the Joker, a costume surprisingly easy to put together with a few trips to various thrift stores.  His blue hair had been fading for a while, so he quickly slapped some shitty green hair dye on top of it to add to the look, just for the night, intending on dyeing it black the following day.  His face was covered in black, white, and red face paint, which was also smeared across Luke’s face and neck from their gross _couple activities_.

And Luke was his Batman, recycling a store-bought costume from a previous year.  He had pulled the hood off his face earlier in the day, getting sick of his obscured vision quickly, leaving it to hang behind his shoulders, along with the long black cape. 

“Mmm, but maybe we can do some _other things_ , before we take off our costumes for the night…” Luke suggested, toying with Michael’s green necktie.

* * *

 _“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”_ Michael heard someone shriek.  It didn’t _sound_ like Luke, but then again, he _did_ have more than a few beers in him, so he decided he’d better make sure anyway.  He looked up from where he was situated between Luke’s legs and saw the blonde staring wide-eyed to his right, hands clapped over his own mouth.   Michael glanced over, Luke’s softening cock still in his mouth, and saw Ashton, dressed in a red devil costume.  And some blonde girl, an angel.  But mostly he saw Ashton.  _Oh holy fuck._

Michael pulled back, wiping his mouth on his sleeve, noticing the streaks of face paint left behind on Luke’s thighs and now the fabric of his shirt, and stood up.

“YOU ARE IN THE _PUBLIC KITCHEN!_   WHAT THE HONEST _FUCK!_ ” Ashton screamed through grit teeth, slamming the door back shut behind him, and locking it.  Michael didn’t even know it _could_ lock.  _That_ would have been useful.  He also supposed that he could have been _listening_ for the door, at the very least, but Ashton had barged in on them while Michael was distracted with…a prior obligation.

After arriving home from the Halloween party, Luke had decided he wanted a movie snack, which led Michael to come to the conclusion that they needed to make brownies _immediately_.  They had somehow made it through making the baked goods with little incident, other than the mess they created, and Luke had been sitting on the kitchen counter enjoying the chocolatey treat and getting a little handsy before Michael started to, uh, suck him off right then and there.

“We were just making a snack,” Luke lied innocently, seeming to forget that his pants were still down, and looked past Ashton at the girl he had come in with, giving her a cheerful smile and a wave, “Hiii!  Who are you?”

The girl began to laugh, hiding her face in her hands.  Ashton rushed forward, grabbing Luke by the collar of the white t-shirt he had been wearing underneath his costume, which was mostly discarded on the floor.

“ _Luke!  Put!  Your!  Dick!  Back!  In!  Your!  Pants!_ ” The curly haired boy hissed, shaking Luke with each word for emphasis.  When released, Luke laughed, leaning forward to try to grab the cloth pants that were pooled around his ankles, but lost his balance and nearly tumbled headfirst off the counter.  Michael caught him, hoisting the blonde back up and onto his feet, then kneeled down, yanking Luke’s pants back up his legs and refastening the Batman utility belt. 

Luke closed his eyes, sighing and slumping into Michael, enveloping him in a hug, before jumping up, without warning, and wrapping his legs around Michael’s waist, causing the shorter boy to almost topple over, Luke clinging to him like a sloth on a branch.

“Sorry you had to see that, Ash,” Michael said, speaking over Luke’s shoulder, “I guess I didn’t hear the door opening, over Luke screaming and cumming in my m—“

“STOP STOP STOP!” Ashton shouted, flapping his hands in Michael’s face wildly.  He inhaled deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose before turning back, addressing his guest. “I’m really sorry Bryana, I should have known there would be _some_ kind of nonsensical bullshit going on if I brought you here.  None of these people have any sense of personal boundaries, as you can see.”

“Hey, you said you _liked_ how open we are with each other!” Michael argued.

“Ashton, you’ve seen my dick _so_ many times, get over it,” Luke added, slurring his words, though they were just clear enough to make things awkward.  A heavy silence fell upon the room, Bryana giving Ashton a raised eyebrow, which he ignored.

“Let’s not talk about th—no!  Stop it!  I—g—just— _go to your room!_   You’ve done enough damage!”  Ashton stuttered, unlocking the door and ushering the younger two boys out of the kitchen, face tomato red.

* * *

“You still wanna watch a movie?” Michael murmured, Luke attached to his hip once more after the two of them had finally shed their costumes and makeup, and s++et Luke down on the mattress.  The blonde nodded, unlatching himself from his boyfriend to dig out his laptop, laying it across his lap and opening up his Netflix account as Michael threw a blanket around the both of them.

Luke sobered up considerably throughout the viewing of the first movie, and as the credits began to roll he suddenly straightened, gasping.

“What?” Michael was a little alarmed.  Luke gasping could mean anything, from _‘I just remembered that otters hold hands while going downstream to avoid getting separated, that’s so fucking cool’_ to something important, like _‘I think a spider just ran across my leg.’_

“Did—did that thing in the kitchen really happen, or was that some weird drunken delusion?” Luke asked, tugging on the front of his shirt nervously.  Michael threw his head back, laughing, nearly cackling.

“Oh, fuck yeah, it did.  That shit was _hilarious._ ”

“Stop it, I feel bad about Ashton’s friend having to witness _that_ ,” Luke rolled his eyes, slapping Michael in the shoulder chidingly, “And I blame _you_ , for not locking the door.”

“Oh _please_ , like we’re ever going to see _her_ again,” Michael reasoned, settling back into their cuddling position.

* * *

“Cuuutie,” Michael said in a sing-song voice, pressing his nose into Luke’s cheek and intertwining their hands underneath the table, both of them coming to rest on Luke’s denim-covered thigh. 

Luke had been grumpy with him all day, after they _did_ end up seeing Ashton’s friend again.  That morning.  She had joined them all for breakfast.  And on their little field trip to the beach, where they stood with their toes in the water until a huge, unexpected wave rolled in, soaking straight through their jeans and jackets with icy water, and of course, then they had to go get coffee to warm up.

She hadn’t said anything about the previous night, not even a teasing joke, but Michael could tell Luke was still embarrassed.

“Looove youuu,” the green-haired boy continued, still mushing his face into Luke’s.  He saw the corners of the blonde’s lips turn up, and the tell-tale dimple finally appeared, “You’re _smiiiling._ ”

Luke grunted in reply, gently headbutting Michael away, but allowed Michael to keep his hand where it was, trying to conceal the stupid smile growing on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some holiday fluff.  
> Bryana probably won't become a recurring character, I just wanted to show that Ashton doesn't just stay at home and sit on his hands when Luke/Calum/Michael are out doing things!!


	21. L

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to put on your big boy pants.

Math was really going well for Michael, for once in his life.  Once he’d finally accepted Luke’s help, everything started going really smoothly.  The two of them were studying side-by-side, in comfortable silence, and Michael’s psyche didn’t even feel like a rubber band that was about to snap.

Finishing the problems on his study guide and feeling relatively content with the ease of the math process, Michael opened his mouth to ask Luke to compare answers, at the same time Luke decided to ask something else.

“Hey, Luke, could you look over—“ “We’re going to have sex eventually, right?”

They both froze, staring silently at each other for a moment, before Michael cleared his throat.

“Um,” he started, running a hand through his freshly dyed black hair, “If or when we’d both feel comfortable doing it, yeah?  …Is there a specific reason you’re asking out of nowhere?  Is something bothering you?”

“I, uh, I was just thinking about it.  And.  We don’t have lube.  Which, which we’d need,” Luke explained awkwardly.  Michael was still perplexed.

“Is this _really_ what you think about while studying math?  Are you turned on right now?  Do you have a fucking _math kink_?”

“Stop it!” Luke laughed, “I was just thinking about how our exam is on Thursday…and Thursday night, Ashton and Calum are both leaving for the whole weekend…and I figured that would be a good, uh, opportunity.  Having the room to ourselves.”

“Sure, we’ll see what happens.  No pressure, though,” Michael said nonchalantly, though he was shrieking in excitement on the inside.  He had a feeling that if he opened his mouth and started screaming wordlessly, he might scare the other boy off.  “There’s a drugstore down the street, you can probably buy lube and shit there.”

“ _No!_ ” Luke exclaimed incredulously, “I buy my snacks from there!”

“So go to a different one,” Michael scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“I—I can’t.  It’s, uh, that’s _gross_.”

“Oh, you fucking baby.  I’ll even come with you if you want.”

Luke’s eyes widened, and he shook his head vigorously.

“Nonono, then they’ll _know_ I’m getting a dick in my ass,” the blonde whined, covering his face with his hands and peeking out at Michael through the gaps in his fingers. “You get it.  I’ll give you money.”

“Fine.  I’ll do it, if you’re going to be so childish about it,” The black haired boy snorted, and then added, mostly sarcastically, “You know, they say that if you’re too embarrassed to buy condoms, you’re not mature enough to be having sex.”

“Shut up, I just don’t like people knowing my private business,” Luke countered, face red.  The older boy ignored him.

“In fact, I’ll go right now.  As a little study break.  I’m out of Red Bull anyway,” Michael stood up, throwing his coat on and walking quickly out the door, back straight and chest puffed out.

* * *

 

Michael returned approximately twenty minutes later, empty-handed with his hood pulled over his face. 

“We gotta go to Walmart,” he mumbled, grabbing Luke’s jacket off the back of his desk chair and tossing it at him.

“What happened?  Got scared?” Luke asked smugly.

“I couldn’t—the cashier—reminded me of my mom.  Same hair and everything.  I was standing in line, about to pay for my shit, and we made eye contact.  I started to sweat— _Stop_ laughing— She said, _‘I can help the next person in line,’_ and I looked down at my armful of sin, and I just… I honestly threw it on the counter in front of her, yelled _‘I’m so fucking sorry’_ in her face and ran away.  …Seriously, it’s _not_ that funny.”

When Luke was finished crying his tears of mirth, literally _gagging_ a few times as he nearly threw up from the force of his laughter, he dried his face and _(tried to)_ say, “The closest Walmart is a half hour away.”

“I don’t care.  They have self-checkouts, and I cannot face a human being right now.  Our only options are: _one_ , you go buy it, _two_ , we both go to Walmart, or _three_ , we’ll have to use, like, fuck—I don’t know, _butter_ , or something, like some kind of sick uncivilized cave-dwellers.”

Luke looked at him for a moment, and, after seeing nothing but seriousness in Michael’s expression, sighed and grabbed his grown-up shoes.

* * *

 

“ _Wait,_ stop, stop,” Luke gasped, suddenly squirming away from Michael.

Michael stilled immediately in his position of _‘three fingers deep in Luke’s ass.’_

“What’s wrong?  Did I hurt you?” he asked after pulling them out, concerned.  This hadn’t happened the other few times they’d tried something like this during the past week.  He wondered what would be wrong now. 

“No, no, I don’t know,” the blonde tried to explain, shaking his head, “Never mind, it’s fine.  Keep going.”

“Seriously, what happened?” The older boy pressed, looking into Luke’s eyes and seeing terrified uncertainty. “This is a partner activity, you gotta talk to me or I won’t know how to fix it.”

“I don’t know.  I got nervous and I didn’t know if I really wanted— I’ll be fine, I mean it, I’m sorry.  We can still do it.  Go on.”

Michael shook his head and rolled over, so that he was lying next to Luke, rather than being on top of him, not wanting to seem unintentionally imposing.  He ran a hand _(not the one that had just been stuffed inside his boyfriend’s asshole)_ through Luke’s hair, running it down his tense back.

“We aren’t gonna do anything that you aren’t 100% sure that you wanna do,” Michael stated, with an air of finality, “Ever.  If you’re not enjoying it, then I won’t enjoy it, and there’s no point.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to ruin the night.  I know you were looking forward to us, like, _actually fucking_ …” Luke explained, looking like he was about to cry.

“Luke, I’m not eager to do anything if you don’t feel the same way.  We’ve been having a great night.  The only thing that could ruin it is if I found out I made you do something you weren’t sure about.  Or if that pizza place with the _really good_ garlic bread burned down.  We should get something from there later, by the way.”

Luke was silent, but he smiled at the joke, so Michael continued.

“So if you wanna try again, you know, eventually, that’s fine.  If you don’t, that’s cool too.  It’s all _your_ choice.”

“I do _want_ to…” the blonde admitted quietly.

“Right now just isn’t the time, then.  We’ve still got forever.  What do you wanna do right now, though?  Lay here, or get dressed, or be alone for a bit, or…?”

“Ordering a pizza sounds good, actually.  With an extra order of cheesy garlic bread.”

* * *

 

Cleaned up, clad in pajamas, and waiting for the exciting call from the pizza delivery man, the pair was back in bed, Michael snuggled into Luke, his back pressed into the taller boy’s torso, purposely grinding his ass playfully into Luke’s crotch now and then.

“Michael,” Luke started, putting his chin on Michael’s shoulder to speak into the older boy’s ear.

“Yeah?”

“I love you,” he whispered, tightening his grip around Michael’s waist.

Michael’s heart fluttered and he felt his face flush.  Sure, they had joked around, using the _‘L’ word_ , saying things like _‘you know you love me anyway’_ after one of them did something particularly stupid, but not— they hadn’t _said it_ yet.

The black haired teen maneuvered around so he could be face to face with his boyfriend, and kissed him on the mouth.

“I love you too,” he said, their foreheads resting against each other, actually feeling a little disappointed when the pizza guy called, forcing them to disentangle from one another, even if it was only a few minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if this kept anyone waiting, school and work and life have been crazy lately :((


	22. Mishap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Always double check.

Michael stretched, removing his microphone headset, closing his laptop and setting it down on the mattress next to him.  He picked up his phone, checking the time.  7 o’clock was still considered dinner time, right?  He was feeling like…shitty diner food would be _so_ satisfying at the moment, after those long hours of playing League.  He probably shouldn’t spend the money, but if he just happened to suggest in to his group text with his roommates _(currently named ‘ThE mAsTuRbAtIoN sTaTiOn’)_ and they encouraged the idea… then he supposed it was simply meant to be.

**_Send to:  lukey, smash, c-dizzle_ **

“WHO HUNGRY???” he sent.  The replies from Calum and Ashton came rolling in within minutes.

**c-dizzle:** you know im always hungry…………………

**smash:** sounds like you have something in mind mike ;)))

“remember that diner we went to that one time?? the one where we thought it would b a good idea to do the 10 burgers in a bag challenge?” Michael asked, finishing the message off with a suggestively winking emoji.

**smash:** i like where this is going

**c-dizzle:** tbh those burgers still tasted good coming back up

**mikey:** …….dont say that

**smash:** calum you can’t come

The black haired boy drummed his fingers against his thigh.  _Why wasn’t Luke answering?_

“luke u in?? my tiny peach???” he sent.  He waited.

No answer.

“lukey? my small sweet puppy?”

Still nothing.

“my moon? my sun?”

**smash:** lol, mike I’m still at the gym for like 30min and then i have to shower so we have time to wait on him

**c-dizzle:** where is he tho?

**smash:** i don’t know, i’m not his mom!

Michael furrowed his brows.  Come to think of it, Luke hadn’t mentioned exactly where he was going to him either, other than he was leaving the dorm to study elsewhere so Michael could have some time to himself to play his “vidya games”.

“where r u my smelly piece of stinky dog shit?????” he asked.

**c-dizzle:** LMAO STOP

Luke still didn’t answer.  Maybe he’d respond to a one-on-one text?

“hey bby what u doin??” Michael sent in their personal chat.

**lukey:** studyin(-:

**mikey:** y didnt u reply in the group chat :O

**lukey:** oops it was on do not disturb

Michael frowned at Luke’s reply, which was adorned with the apologetic-expression-wearing sweat-drop emoji.

**mikey:** o…am i disturbing you lmao?

**lukey:** no im at the library, i didnt want my phone blowing up :-(

“o ok bby,” Michael replied, adding a heart emoji.  God, where would they be without those stupid tiny images to express his every emotion?

An idea was brewing in Michael’s head.  He considered it for a moment, before deciding to just go for it.  He had an hour to kill, according to Ashton, anyway.  He chuckled inwardly at the somewhat absurd plan, palming himself through his jeans.

**mikey:** so what are you wearing

**lukey:** um

           a sleeping with sirens shirt? and a denim jacket? and the same black jeans and converse i always wear ahahahah

**mikey:** what kind of underwear

**lukey:** what

          what are you doing

**mikey:** ;)

Michael nearly scoffed aloud at his own usage of a winky face.

**lukey:** are you sexting me

**mikey:** im horny come home so i can suck you off

**lukey:** you cant text me like this when im at the library hahahahahahahahahahaha

**mikey:** lololol

           can i send you a dick pic

**lukey:** are you kidding

**mikey:** no lmao i have a huge boner right now

            from thinking about you

**lukey:** im in PUBLIC MICHAEL

**mikey:** so go into the bathroom or something hunny bunny ;)))))

**lukey:**  jesus

           lmao

           yeah okay send it hahaha

“HA!” Michael laughed out loud.  _Fucking success!_ He shifted, moving to unbutton his jeans and pull them down his thighs, pulling his boxers down far enough to free his now-hard dick, allowing it to bob up towards his stomach.  The tattooed boy fisted his cock in one hand, giving it a few pumps, then positioned his phone camera over it.  However, his actions were halted by his phone buzzing, receiving a notification from his group chat.

**c-dizzle:** did u get ahold of luke yet?

Michael opted not to answer just then, flipping back to his camera app.  He snapped a few pictures from a few different angles, and scrolled through them on his camera roll, trying to find the perfect one to send back to his boyfriend.  His phone buzzed again, from Luke this time, according to the iMessage notification banner at the top of his screen.

**lukey:** yea im coming :-)

The black haired boy thought nothing of it, tapping the notification, which sent him back to his text messages.  He quickly selected an image and sent it before he was able to lose his nerve and chicken out.

Then he noticed that the contact name at the top of the screen didn’t say _‘lukey’_ , but, instead, _‘ThE mAsTuRbAtIoN sTaTiOn’_.  Michael’s blood ran cold, his heart stopped.  He thought he might be able to delete it if he could turn his phone on airplane mode quickly enough.

But it was too fucking late, the picture had already finished sending.

**mikey:**  NO

            NO

            NO

            DONT SCROLL UP

            DONT LOOK AT THAT PLEASE

            I BEG OF YOU

**lukey:** MICHAEL NO

**smash:** MICHAEL WHAT THE FUCK

**c-dizzle:** HOLY SHIT HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

**mikey:** IM SO FUCKING SORRY IM SO SORRY IM SO RRY IM SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY HOLY OH MY GOD

**smash:** MICHAEL THIS IS A PART OF YOU THAT I DIDNT ASK TO SEE

**mikey:** IM SO FUCKING SORRY ASHTON

**smash:** WHAT THE FUCK IS EVEN GOING ON IN YOUR PRIVATE CHAT WITH LUKE

**mikey:** RGL;RJLKRJGKLJSLKJKLEJGKJSLKFSLKJSDLK SORRY SORRY SORRY I THOUGHT IT WAS FUNNY

            WE’RE NOT REALLY SEXTING I PROMISE IT WAS MOSTLY A JOKE IM SORRY

            WE’RE JUST A COUPLE OF SILLY BOYS

**smash:** UGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH

**lukey:**  i think it looks nice michael (-:

**c-dizzle:** yeah its not bad congrats

**mikey:** :)

            well lol they dont call this chat ‘the masturbation station’ for nothing am i right guys lmao ;)

**lukey:** hahahahahahhahahahah

**smash:** SHUT UP AND MOVE OUT

**lukey:** :-(

**c-dizzle:** wait guys

               guys

               are we still going to get food tho

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope the format of this wasn't too hard to read, if something doesn't make sense let me know and i'll clarify/try to go back in and fix it.


	23. Heartbeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Distance makes the heart grow fonder.

“It’s only a month, Luke,” Michael laughed, stroking the younger boy’s hair, “You did just fine over Thanksgiving break.  Just think about all the presents.  And hanging out with your dog.  And eating real food.”

“Looks like I’m just fucking useless in the cooking department,” Ashton grumbled to himself from his seat, licking his finger and aggressively flipping the page of the novel he was reading.

“I knooow,” Luke groaned, ignoring Ashton and nuzzling his head into Michael’s chest further, “I’m excited for that, but, I’m just, I dunno, used to this.  It’s gonna be weird to go weeks without seeing anyone.  And we barely even had time to play guitar between Thanksgiving break and now, with all our finals and stuff.”

“Awww, we can FaceTime whenever you want.  And we can even have like, a group Skype chat, or something, when we all have time between the Christmas festivities,” Michael promised, wrapping his arms around Luke’s torso and squeezing. “And there will be _plenty_ of time to play together when we come back from break.”

“I’m gonna annoy you all day every day,” the blonde replied, shifting to look up at Michael and making a kissy face.  Michael returned the expression, and they inched towards each other before finally meeting in the middle to peck each other on the lips multiple times, giggling in each other’s faces.  Across the room, Ashton sighed loudly.

“God, you guys _cannot_ stop being disgustingly _adorable_ for one fucking _minute_ , can you?”

* * *

 

“I’m gonna miss you,” Michael admitted breathlessly in the darkness of their room, pulling away from their open-mouthed kisses to unbutton his flannel and shrugging it off his shoulders.

“ _’It’s only a month,’_ ” Luke parroted his words from earlier, tugging his own shirt off and flinging it to the side.

“Shut up, you know I’m a huge bullshitter.  I couldn’t admit that I’m dumb and clingy in front of Ashton,” The black haired boy said against Luke’s mouth, closing his eyes and shoving a hand down the front of Luke’s athletic shorts that served as pajamas, finding him already hard.

“Mhmm,” Luke hummed, “Michael…”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“Mmm, I love you, too.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

Michael’s eyes snapped open to meet Luke’s, and found no traces of uncertainty in the blue irises.

“Are you sure?” he asked anyway.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

* * *

 

“Okay,” Michael breathed, lining himself up at Luke’s entrance after a good amount of preparation, “I’m gonna go really slow.”

“Okay,” Luke said, looking up at him, his arms looped around Michael’s neck.

“If you need me to stop or slow down, let me know,” he added.

“Sure thing,” the younger boy agreed.

“Okay, so remember, if you want—“

“ _Michael!_   I trust you!  You’re making me anxious, just put your fucking dick in my ass already!” Luke hissed, laughing.

“Okay, okay!” the older boy scoffed, “Just trying to be polite!”

* * *

 

“Was that good?” Michael panted after collapsing on top of the taller boy, feeling their bare chests heaving against one another’s.  He felt Luke’s hot puffs of breath against his shoulder, felt his hair brush against his skin as he nodded in reply. “Do you maybe wanna take a shower?” he asked, and then added, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, _“Together?”_

“Only if you carry me,” Luke murmured, only half-jokingly.  Michael shook his head.

“Definitely not.  I’m pretty sure Ashton and Calum are still awake and I don’t think they’d appreciate glancing out their doorway and seeing us naked piggybacking into the bathroom.”

Luke groaned unhappily, squirming until Michael shifted onto his elbows, hovering over the blonde, looking him in the eye.  Luke pouted at him, then pointedly turned his face away, crossing his arms over his chest.

“But Mikey,” he protested, “I’m tired and _sticky_ and it’s _your_ fault.”

“It is _not!_   I’m not going to carry you into the bathroom, I’m just as tired as you are!”

The younger boy turned back to look at him then, with the saddest, bluest eyes Michael had ever seen.  He stuck out his lower lip, still red from biting down hard on it during his climax, and reached up to softly pet Michael’s hair.  With the soft moonlight streaming over his face, he looked like a fucking _angel._

“Stop—stop looking at me.  Stop!  _Stop it!  Stop look_ —ugh!  Fuck you, I fucking _hate_ you!  Get on my back you fucking piece of shit.”

* * *

 

“You look _really_ good, Michael.” Luke said, the image of his blue eye becoming huge as he closely inspected Michael’s appearance through his iPhone screen, “That snapback looks _hot_ on you.”

“Luke, I told you _not_ to get me any presents,” Michael said, looking crossly at Luke’s image through the screen of his phone and lightly shaking the small cardboard box in front of the camera for him to see.

Through the FaceTime call, the older boy could see that Luke was laying on his own bed in his own home, wearing the sweater that Michael had sent _him_ as a Christmas present a few days earlier.

“I know, I just thought it was kinda cute…you didn’t open it yet, did you?”

“No, the note in the card you sent said to call you when I got it.  So here I am, calling you.”

“Well, open it!”

Michael sighed, using the scissors on his desk to slice open the tape, then pulled out the crumpled up newspapers that served as padding, then finally pulled out the thing itself.  It was some type of electronic bracelet, a plain, thick, black band, with a small glassy stripe of a screen.  He glanced at his phone; Luke was watching him with bated breath, chewing nervously on a fingernail.  Michael raised an eyebrow, holding the bracelet up to the screen.

“I can obviously see that this is a piece of technological jewelry, but…what does it _do_ , specifically?  It’s not a fitness watch, right?” Michael asked.

“You might think it’s stupid…” Luke started, balling up his hands with the fabric of his sweater sleeves.

“I mean, if it’s a fitness watch, it’s sort of useless for me, isn’t it?” the black haired boy joked.  Luke shook his head.

“It’s…it’s a bracelet that—you sync it to an app on your phone, and we can send each other, uh, _pretend heartbeats_ from anywhere we are,” the blonde explained, looking away and blushing, “It’s stupid isn’t it?  It’s kinda dumb.  I’m sorry if you don’t like it.”

“You’re so fucking _cute_ , Luke.  I _love_ it.  I love _you._   Tell me how it works.”

After explaining which app to download, Luke walked Michael through sending and receiving his first ‘heartbeat’.  Basically, it worked by tapping on the screen while the phone app was open, and the person with the other registered bracelet would receive a short heartbeat-patterned vibration and the bracelet’s little LED screen would flash with a heart icon. 

“I figured, since we can’t cuddle in person again for a while…this would be a nice way to feel close anyway,” Luke finished shyly, smiling and showing off his own bracelet, already snapped onto his wrist.

Michael felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes.  It had only been a little over two weeks and he already missed the shit out of his dumb boyfriend.  He took a deep breath, running a hand over his face.

“This is really nice,” he mumbled shakily, “Don’t make me the only one who ever sends these first or I’ll feel like a dumbass.  I—I miss you.  Already.  Is that weird?  It hasn’t even been _that_ long.  I’m so needy.  God, what am I going to do over the _summer?_ ”

Luke’s beaming face turned more serious.

“I miss you too,” he said, “My bed is too big and there’s no snoring Michael Clifford in it to kick off the blankets and steal all the pillows in the middle of the night.”

Michael smiled at that, eyes wet, and then, before things started to get weird and sappy (not that there was anything wrong with getting emotional—he just didn’t feel like crying over FaceTime just then), he had to make an inappropriate joke to ruin the mood.

“So,” the black haired boy started slowly, “What d’you think would happen if you put the bracelet on your balls and had the other person send a bunch of heartbeats?”

"I’m going to hang up on you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i saw bracelets like these on buzzfeed or pinterest or something (but i can't find the exact link now) and there's also an apple watch app with a similar concept, in case anyone was wondering. :')


	24. Shitstorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aww, our first fight-- as a couple!

“Is something funny?” Michael asked casually, craning his neck to look down at Luke’s face, who was slumped next to him on the bench at the bus stop.  The younger boy’s mouth was mostly obscured by his scarf, but Michael could tell by his rounded pink cheeks and crinkled eyes that he was smiling down at his phone.

Luke looked up at Michael through his snowflake-dusted lashes, and put his phone back into his pocket. 

“No,” he said, sitting up straighter and scooting closer to the older boy, who snaked an arm around his waist, “God, I’m freezing.  When the fuck is the bus coming?”

Michael looked at him, then shrugged, instead pressing a kiss to Luke’s temple, making him scrunch up his nose and shove his cold hand inside Michael’s sleeve to grab at the black haired boy’s fingers.

* * *

 

_“Hello?”_ Luke’s voice projected from the phone’s speaker.

“Hi baby,” Michael said, switching the phone from one ear to the other.

“Michael?  Why are you using Calum’s phone?  Where are you?”

“My phone died, so I didn’t get a chance to answer your last text,” Michael responded, “Calum and I went out to get food after class and ran into some of his friends, and hung out for a bit, and somehow we kind of ended up at this party.  It’s a fucking rager.  Calum’s friends are _awesome,_ by the way.”

“ _Oh,_ ” Luke replied shortly.  Michael squeezed his eyes shut, cringing inwardly.

“Are you mad at me?”

“No,” the blonde sighed, “I just wish you would have called earlier.”

The twenty-year-old eyed the digital clock on the nightstand next to him.  It was only ten o’clock, but considering his phone had been dead since three… Shit.

“I’m sorry.  I should have called.  Do you want me to come home?” Michael asked, biting his lip anxiously.

“No, that would be stupid.  Go have fun,” Luke laughed softly.

“Are you sure?  I’d rather come home than have you think I’m an asshole.  What are you doing right now?”

“It’s seriously fine, our plans for tonight weren’t set in stone anyway.  I’m just hanging out in the kitchen with Ashton and Bryana.  Ashton, say hi.” Luke turned the phone on speaker for just long enough for Michael to hear _“Heeey Michael”_ coming from somewhere in the distance.

“I’m glad I didn’t leave you completely bored and alone, then.  But still, I’m sorry.”

“Mikey, I’m not your mom, you don’t have to tell me where you are every second of the day and how many breaths you’ve taken and how many times you’ve picked your nose.”

“I think I picked my nose twice today,” Michael said, raising an eyebrow in thought and tapping his chin.

“Okay, thanks for letting me know,” Luke replied with a laugh.

“Alright, well, if you’re fine with it, I’ll be home later tonight.  I love you,” Michael finished, smiling on his end of the line.

“Love you too.  Bye, have fun.”

“Bye.”

Michael breathed a sigh of relief, running a hand over his face.

* * *

 

“What color should I dye my hair next?” Michael asked, absentmindedly bouncing his foot up and down from his reclined position on his bed, “Red?  What do you think?”  He cleared his throat to get the other boy’s attention, “Lukey?”

“Hmm?” Luke asked, not looking up from his phone screen where he appeared to be typing a novel to someone through text.  Michael sighed. 

“Who are you texting all the time?  It’s like you’re never really _present_ in _our_ conversations anymore,” he complained.

“No one.” Luke answered simply, continuing to type, but finally sparing a sidelong glance at Michael.  Michael frowned, feeling an inexplicable pang in his chest.  Luke finished his message and sent it off, putting his phone face down on the mattress beside him.  “Sorry, that was rude.  A friend,” he corrected himself.  Then, giving Michael a kiss on the cheek, “And I think red hair would look lovely on you.”

“Who’s your friend?” Michael asked with a confused expression.  Luke raised an eyebrow at him.

“What?  Do you think I don’t have other friends?” Luke asked irritably.

“Quit reaching, I didn’t say that at all, so don’t even imply it,” Michael defended, crossing his arms over his chest.  Luke sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“It’s just Ashton’s girlfriend’s friend.  She’s…cool.”

“Since when do you hang out with Ashton and his girlfriend?” The older boy scoffed.  Luke’s relaxed expression turned annoyed once more, glaring at Michael.

“Since you keep _ditching_ me for Calum and I’m not just going to fucking stay _here_ and sit on my hands waiting for you to come home at three in the _fucking_ morning,” the blonde snapped, peeling away from Michael and sitting up in bed, sneering down at him.

Michael blinked up at him with wide eyes.

“I—I didn’t mean to—“

“Yeah, you keep saying that— your phone is dead, you lost track of time, you’re _sorry_ you _forgot_ we made plans, but you’ve ditched me like five times in the past two weeks alone,” Luke spat, hugging himself defensively.

“What, so you’re bitching to this girl about how I’m a terrible boyfriend?  Is _that_ what you’re doing?” Michael asked angrily, propping himself up on one elbow. 

“Not everything is about you, Michael!  Believe it or not, sometimes, people actually enjoy my company instead of just letting me tag along sometimes because they feel sorry for me!”

“Well, why don’t you go incessantly bug one of _those_ people instead of screaming at me for asking a simple fucking question?” Michael grumbled, flipping himself over to face the wall and pulling the blankets all the way up over his head to signal that he was done with the conversation.

“You’re such an _asshole!_ ” Luke gritted out, standing up and stomping his feet on the carpeted floor.

“Mhm, okay, Luke.  Good night.”

“It’s only six fucking thirty, you're _not_ going to sleep!”

* * *

 

Michael didn’t see much of Luke for the next week and a half.  He felt guilty about their argument and resolved to make a point to include him, since Luke clearly felt that the reason he was being ‘ignored’ was because Michael found him annoying or something.  However, Luke had apparently decided to turn the tables on him first, staying out until the wee hours of the morning, not returning phone calls or texts, barely speaking to the other boy at all.  It made Michael’s chest hurt to be in this weird limbo of an argument, but he was also just plain old pissed off at Luke for taking it too far.

_Creak._

The black haired boy’s eyes opened a crack as he felt a weight shifting on his mattress.  It was Luke, apparently attempting to crawl in for the night.

“Oh, so you finally want to sleep with _me_ for a change, huh?” Michael asked nastily, glaring at the younger boy.

“Shut up and let me in, I’m tired,” Luke replied, but he sounded…off.

“Are you _drunk?_ ”

_“No!”_

“Yes you are, go sleep in your own damn bed.” The older boy whispered harshly, waving him away with a blanket-covered hand, “Or better yet, go sleep with whatsherface, your new _girlfriend._ ”

Luke backed off, standing up and looking down at Michael with sad, shiny eyes.

“I don’t _want_ to sleep with her, I want to sleep with _you_ ,” he argued, making a move to slide the older boy over to make room for himself.  Michael growled and sat up, swatting Luke’s hands away.

“I said no!  I don’t know where you’ve been, go sleep somewhere else!”

“God, I can’t fucking _stand_ you,” Luke hissed, throwing a fallen pillow at Michael.  Michael caught it, rolling his eyes, before seeing Luke’s legs disappear up the ladder to his own bed.


	25. Cheat

“So, Michael,” Ashton started, flipping Luke’s desk chair around and straddling it, _cool-older-brother_ style, resting his arms on the top of the backrest, “As an RA, I can’t help but notice you’ve been having…roommate problems.  And, as a person with eyes, I can also see that our little group isn’t, ah, meshing as well as it should be.  What’s going on?”

“Well, _you’re_ Luke’s new BFF, why don’t you just ask _him?_ ” Michael grumbled, not bothering to look up at Ashton. 

“I will, but I don’t _just_ want _his_ perspective.  I’m trying to help resolve the issue, since apparently the two of you have stopped communicating with each other,” Ashton sighed, “I care about both of you equally, I’m not just trying to be a ‘yes’-man for one or the other.”

Michael finally put down his pencil, staring down at his hands and twiddling his thumbs for a bit, before answering.

“He got introduced to your girlfriend’s group of friends, and now he won’t stop hanging out with them.  And that’s fine, I want us to have separate things and I’m glad he has other friends that he likes.  But I’m worried about one girl in particular.  He never stops texting her and he doesn’t come home at night a lot of the time…and he likes her Instagram posts…”

“…And you think something’s going on?”

Michael looked up at Ashton, stilling his hand movements.

“Do _you?_   I mean, honestly, you see him more than I do these days,” the younger boy said with a grimace.  Ashton shook his head.

“Not that I’ve noticed.  But you’d have to confront him about that yourself.”

The black haired boy scoffed, wrinkling his nose.

“What, and say, _‘hey, Luke, no offense, but why are you fucking cheating on m—‘_ “

“What?” Luke asked, popping his head through the doorframe.  Michael nearly had a heart attack, his face draining of color.  Luke narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms, “Were you talking about me?”

“No,” Ashton said innocently, “I was just checking in on Michael.  We haven’t hung out in a while.”

“You’re in your ‘dad’ chair position though.  And I heard my name,” the blonde pointed out suspiciously.  He shook his head, rolling his eyes, “Never mind, I don’t care.  Michael, can we go talk somewhere?”

Michael’s heart leapt to his throat.

“Uh, about, about _what?_ ”

“Do you guys need a mediator?” Ashton offered, smiling gently and standing up.  Luke held out a placating hand.

“No, I just—want to talk, about some things.  Alone.  I’ll buy you Starbucks,” the youngest said with a shrug, looking less than a fraction as nervous as Michael felt.

_God._   Luke was going to fucking break up with him.  Right now.  Why else would he make a peace offering like that?  This was fucking _it._

“O—okay,” Michael managed to croak out, getting up on shaky legs to grab his coat and shoes.

* * *

 

Luke held Michael’s hand on the silent, tense walk to the coffee shop, not even commenting about how sweaty it was.

_Fucking fuck, he’s probably just being nice before he slams me with the ‘yeah I fucked that girl and I like her a lot better than you,’_ Michael thought.

The pair barely made it to a table with their drinks _(Michael was frankly surprised he even made it that far)_ before Michael blurted out, “Are you cheating on me?”

Luke’s eyes bulged, his mouth opened and closed a few times before gasping, _“What?!”_

“Please, _please_ just _tell_ me already,” Michael moaned, hiding his face in his hands, “You had to bring me to a public place where I wouldn’t cause a scene, right?”

“Michael, what the fuck?!  _No!!_ ” Luke nearly shouted.  Michael snuck a glance at his face and could see clearly that Luke was horribly offended.  _Eh??  But…but…_ “Why the _fuck_ would you think that?!”

“I—you—you’re never home anymore and you’re always being secretive about what you’re doing!  You brought me here to break up with me!” the older boy countered.

“I don’t bring it up because I know you’ll just make some nasty comment about— _God,_ what the _fuck!_   I brought you here so I could apologize for how childish I’ve been acting, and maybe we could come to some sort of agreement for how to deal with our issues like _adults,_ and then—what kind of person do you think I am?!” Luke was leaning in, whispering harshly across the table so as not to cause a ruckus by yelling, but they were already gathering glances from other patrons in the café. 

“You suddenly start texting this girl 24/7, stop seeing _me_ and start seeing _her_ , don’t even come home most nights, are frankly _fucking rude_ to me when you _do_ decide to give me the time of day—and what would be a better way to get back at me for ditching you than _that?!_   It’s a perfectly reasonable suggestion!” Michael argued.

“I’m not a fucking terrible person like you might believe, so _fuck_ you.  After we got this all sorted out I was going to ask if maybe we could have her come over tonight so all three of us could hang out and be friends, but since you _apparently_ think I’m some kind of—whatever.  Whatever!  I don’t care!  I’m just going to go to her place myself, and you can sit here and be miserable,” the blonde finished, rising from his seat and throwing his jacket back over his shoulders.

“Have fun, hope you don’t _catch_ anything,” Michael sneered, maybe a little too loudly.  Luke glared at him, livid.

“I’ll talk to Ashton about moving out of our room when I come back to the dorm tomorrow.  We’re done, just like you predicted,” he said very quietly, yanking his backpack off the ground and making his way to the exit.

Wait, _what?_   No.  No, that wasn’t supposed to happen.  Michael felt like his ribcage was made of thin ice, about to crack.  He felt _cold._   That was _not_ supposed to be the outcome of this stupid conversation.  He didn’t know what he really expected, but—he thought—not _that._   He felt tears prick his eyes and—no, _fuck no,_ he was _not_ going to start crying in the middle of a fucking _Starbucks._  

* * *

 

Michael was able to keep it _(mostly)_ together until he arrived in his suite, panicking thoroughly due to the fact that he had called Luke _twenty fucking times_ on the way home with no answer.  He’d even left some pathetic voicemails to give Luke something to laugh at with his _new favorite person._   He slid down the back of the closed door, blubbering a little, before remembering the bracelet on his wrist.  He giggled in disbelief, probably sounding like a fucking lunatic, while opening the app on his phone and sending Luke a shit-ton of ‘heartbeats’ in quick succession.  He waited. 

He didn’t get one back.


	26. Always

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And I'll miss your laugh, your smile  
> I'll admit I'm wrong if you'd tell me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the (two day lmao) wait, finals week is upon us......

Clenching his jaw, Michael selected Luke’s phone number from his contacts again.  After the third unanswered attempt, he threw his phone at the wall across from him with a frustrated cry and buried his face in his knees, bursting into tears.

“Hey!  Hey!  Why is the door blocked?  Is anyone home?” Michael heard from behind him, the sound muffled by the wood against his back.  He was suddenly aware that he was being nudged by the door, as someone was trying to open it.  He scrambled up, leaning against the opposite wall. 

The door was pushed open then, and Calum stumbled through, having overestimated the amount of force he’d need to dislodge whatever object had been blocking it.  His mouth fell open as he stared at Michael, who was standing in front of him with his arms folded across his chest, seemingly trying to look casual with his snotty splotchy red face and teary eyes.

“Michael?  What’s going on?” Calum asked.

Michael shrugged, wiping his nose with the back of his hand and looking away.

“Oh—well, y’know…just—“ _Sniff,_ “Just, uh,” _Sniff,_ “Y’know, chilling.  Yeah.”

“Oh, okay, I thought you were, like, _laying on the floor crying_ or something,” Calum replied sarcastically, waving a hand.  He then added, in a serious tone, “Really, what’s wrong?”

Michael hesitated before his face crumpled and the crying started up again.  He rushed forward and wrapped his arms around Calum, sobbing against his dark skin.  Calum’s hands reached around to rub Michael’s back.

“I, I, I don’t—Luke, is,” The black haired boy hiccupped, “He’s, I’m—“

“Michael, no offense, but I can’t understand a goddamn thing you’re saying.  Let’s go into my room and calm down, and then we can talk.”

* * *

 

Satisfied with his work of wrapping Michael into a blanket burrito and supplying him with a mug of hot cocoa, Calum took a seat next to him on the lower bunk of his and Ashton’s shared bed.

“I— _hate_ , Luke,” Michael sniffled, gripping the glass mug tightly with both hands, “He’s a—a f—fucking a-a- _asshole_.”

“The beginning, Michael.  Start at the beginning,” Calum said soothingly, putting a comforting arm around his roommate’s shoulders.

Michael recounted the tale, all the way back to the first small argument that Luke and Michael had weeks ago, up until Calum had walked in on the mess.

“Whatever happens from here, it’ll all work out exactly like it’s supposed to, Michael.”

“I doubt it,” the black haired boy said bitterly, glaring down at the carpeted floor.

“Cuddle?  If a good cuddle can’t fix this, I don’t know what will,” Calum offered, wrapping both arms around the other boy’s form, who nodded and sniffled in reply, kicking his legs unhappily.

* * *

 

Michael finally attempted to get some sleep in his own bed after a few hours of cuddling, movies, an ice cream date, and watching puppy videos on YouTube, courtesy of Calum _(“It always cheers me up,” he’d said with a shrug, pulling up the first video)._ He’d finally managed to begin drifting off when he was disturbed by a buzzing sound.  He wondered how a fly could have possibly survived the winter weather to come in through his window, before realizing that it was his phone vibrating.  Michael flew upwards, nearly smacking his head on the bars of the top bunk, and scrambled around, digging through his sheets to get to his phone.

He stared at the cracked phone in awe for a few seconds, eyes squinting at the harsh light in the blackness of his room, and confirmed three times with his brain that yes, it really did say _“lukey”_ at the top of the screen.

“Luke?” Michael answered, perhaps a little too eagerly.

“Are you up?” Luke said, opting for a less traditional greeting.

“It’s three in the fucking morning, asshole,” the older boy hissed, remembering that he was pissed off, his cloud of sleepiness dissipating slightly. 

“Okay.  Never mind, then.”

Michael’s entire body seized up, and he quickly spat into his phone, “Don’t fucking hang up!”

There was no reply, and Michael was terrified that Luke had done it anyway.  He ventured a small “Hello…?” into the crackling silence.

“I’m still here,” Luke said quietly.

“So…what did you want?” Michael asked, trying not to sound like a dick.

“To talk.”

“To talk?  You’re ready to talk now?” Michael snorted, “You think I’ll just keep waiting around for _you_ to stop _ignoring_ me, until it’s convenient for _you_ to talk to me every time, huh?”

“I—I was angry, I didn’t want to talk when I was so upset—“

“And I wasn’t?  You fucking ignored me for hours, weeks, even, if we’re counting the whole fucking stupid thing, and I’m supposed to just be patient and hope that you’ll be ready to contact me… _when?  Eventually?_   That’s so fucking _selfish_ and—“

“Look, I’m really sorry about everything, but can we _not_ do this over the phone?” the blonde asked, cutting him off.

“Of course, we’ll talk over whatever medium _you_ find the most convenient,” he replied, rolling his green eyes, “Why did you even bother calling?”

“I, uh, I’m walking home, and I felt like a serial killer was going to jump out of the bushes, and, um, talking on the phone with you makes me feel, uh— _safe,_ ” Luke explained timidly.

“Fair enough.”

“I _never_ cheated on you,” the younger boy blurted out, “ _Never._ ”

“Okay,” Michael sighed.

“I’m sorry I made it look that way.  I wanted to piss you off, give you a taste of your own medicine.  I wanted you to be jealous.  I’m so fucking _stupid._ ”

“Okay.”

“I love you,” Luke whispered.  Michael was silent for the rest of the ten or so minutes it took before Luke swallowed audibly and said, “I’m at the entrance now.  I’ll be up in a second.”

* * *

 

Luke entered the still-dark room quietly, softly shutting the door behind him, cutting off the yellow light from the hallway that streaked through the room.  Michael stood up to meet him as he heard the click of the door.

Wordlessly, Luke moved forward to lock his arms around Michael’s neck in a hug that wasn’t reciprocated, murmuring, “I’m sorry.  I love you,” into the older boy’s ear.

Michael’s hand twitched from where it swung limply at his side, fighting the urge to _forgive_ , no questions asked, because he knew that would benefit absolutely no one. 

“I _love_ you,” Luke repeated, desperate.

Michael cleared his throat, moving his hands onto Luke’s ribs and gently, but firmly, removing the other boy from his person.  Luke looked lost, clutching the front of his own shirt, staring at Michael with wide, wet eyes.

“That’s not a magic ‘fix-it’ phrase,” Michael stated blandly.

“I’m not—I’m sorry.  I—I didn’t mean to—to hurt you, and I’m s- _sorry_ ,” Luke stuttered frantically, “ _I love you._ ”

“You just admitted that you did want to upset me, over the phone.  So now you’re lying to me, right?” the black haired boy said coldly.

“ _No_ —that’s not what I—I didn’t mean…I’m sorry, I’m _sorry_ , I don’t know what you want me to _say_ , _tell me_ what to _say_ , anything you want,” the younger boy begged, voice cracking, twisting his clammy hands in front of him to stop them from trembling, a few shaky gasps that threatened to turn into full-blown sobs escaping his lips, “I just want to be with you, just, _please,_ tell me what to do, to say.  I _love_ you, I love you so fucking _much._ I’m _so sorry.  Please,_ can we just get past this and _move on?”_

“It’s not okay just because _you_ decided _you_ were ready for it to be okay.” Michael said.  “You broke up with me, ran away, and ignored me, and now _you_ want it to be okay, so I should accept it?  This is exactly what I was talking about.  I’m willing to admit the things I’ve done wrong, but if you refuse to work with me on this, you might as well go,” he finished, swallowing hard and crossing his arms, turning his gaze to the floor.


	27. Fell Fast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ended faster.

Upon looking up and seeing Luke’s aghast expression, Michael cleared his throat and continued talking.

“Here, I’ll help you,” he said, “’Michael, I’m really sorry for scaring the shit out of you multiple times by suddenly ignoring you in the middle of arguments, when I could have simply said that I wanted some time to cool down and think.  That was really—‘”

“Why are you attacking me like you didn’t do anything?!  Don’t blame this all on me!” Luke snapped defensively, aggressively wiping the tears out of his eyes with the heel of his hand.

“Fine.  Sorry, I’ll go first,” Michael said, holding out his hands in front of himself in a placating motion, “I’m sorry for ditching you.  No one likes to be left out and I know sometimes you think no one likes you and it was wrong for me to add to that.  I’m also sorry that I accused you of cheating on me instead of calmly sharing my concerns with you before it escalated that far.  I won’t make these mistakes again, and if I do, you’re fully allowed to whack me in the face with a baseball bat.”

“Wow, you’re so fucking _mature_ , right?” Luke hissed, his hand balled into fists.

“No, Calum gave me some advice, and I took it, because I want to fix this.  You know I’m childish as fuck.  Is there anything else I owe you an apology for?”

Luke’s mouth opened and closed a few times, before he glared down at his shoes.

“ _No,_ ” he grumbled, kicking the back of one foot with the other, “That’s pretty much it.”

“So…?  Got anything to say?  Or are you just gonna leave again?”

“Shut up,” the blonde growled, then sighed, walking across the room to sink down in his desk chair, his shoulders slumped, “I’m…sorry I was being manipulative and shitty out of some kind of stupid revenge plot.  And I’m sorry I didn’t think about how I was running away from our problems, all I had in my head was that I needed to get away before I could say something stupid that would ruin everything.  If I do it again, stab me in the dick with a plastic fork.”

“Thank you,” Michael said, his face softening, sitting down in the chair next to Luke’s, “For apologizing.”

“Thanks for giving me another chance,” Luke said, dabbing his face again with the sleeve of his shirt.

“I didn’t _say_ I was giving you another chance,” the black haired boy said flatly. 

Luke’s head snapped up, looking at Michael like he’d just been slapped.  He was frozen for a moment, eyes wide and mouth hanging open, silently wondering if the other boy was fucking serious.  He cleared his throat and nearly choked on his spit, coughing before speaking.

“What—but—I— _Oh,_ ” the younger boy stuttered, gripping the seat of his chair and rocking back and forth on it, “Oh—oh— _Okay,_ ” he swallowed, “No, of course you didn’t… _Sorry_ …”

Michael watched Luke for a while, who seemed to be at a loss for words, avoiding Michael’s gaze and trying not to be so obvious that he was feeling like a fucking idiot wiping away his own dumb baby tears.  Michael put a hand on Luke’s forearm, causing the blonde to finally look up and meet Michael’s green eyes.

“Naw, I’m just kidding.  C’mere, let’s hug it out,” Michael said finally, his face breaking into a wide grin, holding his arms open wide.

Luke gaped at him, then slapped his closest arm away from him.

_“Fuck you!”_ he shrieked, standing up and reaching for the nearest pillow, smacking Michael with it violently, punctuating each word with a swing, “Fuck you!  I was about to have a fucking heart attack you _fucking_ piece of _shit!_   It’s not _funny,_ stop laughing!”

Michael held up his arms half-heartedly in defense, allowing the pillow assault to continue for a little while until he was finally able to snatch it away and throw it behind him.  He took Luke’s wrists, the younger boy standing in front of him empty-handed and sobbing angrily.  Luke shuffled forward and leaned down until his face was resting against the older boy’s shoulder, still seated in his chair.

“I’m sorry,” Luke muttered for probably the billionth time that night.

“Me too.”

“I forgive you.”

“I forgive you too,” Michael answered, patting the back of Luke’s head, “Now, it’s time for my small baby bean to stop crying before I turn the waterworks back on.  Our neighbors probably already know us as _‘that loud couple,’_ let’s not make ourselves _‘that dramatic couple’_ as well...”

Luke snorted at that, his clogged nose making a gross wet sound against Michael’s shirt.

“Alright, don’t go shooting snot onto my clothes.”

“I’ll never hang out with her again,” Luke offered suddenly, after a short silence.

“That’s not what I want,” Michael responded quickly, “We can both have our friends.  I just think, like, we need to open that line of communication.  Instead of being afraid that the other is going to be mad.  Or, like, if I forgot we were supposed to have a date, you’d definitely remember and be like…”

“’Hey you fucking jackass, we were _supposed_ to go to the fucking _Olive Garden_ on Tuesday,’” Luke said, an imitation of himself from the past week.

“And I could be like, ‘oh well _thank fucking God_ I _talked_ to you, I’d rather _die_ than miss the opportunity to deepthroat breadsticks in public with you,’” Michael giggled.  Luke joined him, his shoulders shaking and bumping into Michael’s, who he was still propped up against.

“Love you,” the blonde whispered.

“I love you too.  Are we good?  In your opinion?”

Luke said nothing, but Michael could assume that the feeling of a nose swiping up and down against his shoulder was a nod.

“Good.  Now, I wanted to get to bed before the sunrise, but it looks like,” Michael began, picking up his phone and reading the time, “It looks like, by the time we’re finished with our make-up sex, the sun will definitely be up.”

Luke stood upright, blinking at the other boy slowly.

“…Make…up…sex…?” he asked with a slight tilt of his head.

Michael laughed, scratching the back of his head and reclining in the chair.

“It was a joke, babe,” the older boy clarified sheepishly, reaching out to gently take both of Luke’s hands in his own and swinging them in the space between where Michael sat and Luke stood.

Luke leaned in again, bringing his face close to Michael’s.  His eyes closed, expecting a kiss, but none was received.  Michael’s eyelids fluttered back open after a moment, to find Luke staring at him, blue eyes partially obscured behind his blonde eyelashes.

“Is it one of those _‘I was only joking if you said no’_ jokes…?”

“ _Mayyybe_ …” Michael said, a slow smile creeping onto his face. 

Luke grinned back at him, standing between Michael’s open legs.  Michael let go of one of Luke’s hands, using it to land a quick smack on Luke’s ass.  Luke squealed, jumping in surprise.

“What the _fuck_ , Michael!  That _hurt!”_

“Sorry, I’m sorry, it just felt so right!”

Luke laughed, straightening and pulling away slightly.  He cleared his throat.

“Well.  I’m gonna, go, uh, brush my teeth.  And then we can do…whatever.”

“What?  You’re going to go brush your teeth right now?” the black haired boy asked incredulously.

“Yeah, I was really nervous and threw up in the bushes outside right before I came in the building.  Be right back.” Luke explained quickly, face turning red and making a swift exit.

“That’s fucking gross!” Michael called after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i only have one more final on tuesday and then im doooooooooooooone!!!!!!!!!


	28. Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A _friendship_ date, that is.

_Bang!  Bang!_

Luke groaned and shifted, snuggling back further into Michael’s front, pressing his ass into Michael’s embarrassing morning _(or, more likely, afternoon?)_ wood.  Michael pulled his arm out from its awkward position under Luke’s ribcage, making the blonde squawk grumpily at the loss of support, and tried to shake off the pins-and-needles feeling that had crept up the limb while he slept.

Light flooded into the room from the doorway, despite the drawn-tight curtains, and Michael and Luke turned in unison to glare blearily at the source.  It was Calum, looking like an overexcited puppy.

“Hey, get up!  We’re–“ Calum cut himself short, putting a hand over his eyes and backing out of the room, calling out, “Never mind Ashton, they’re naked!”

“ _AGAIN?!”_ They heard from the suite hallway, “Don’t you guys do anything _else?!”_

“Go see what they want,” Luke ordered, closing his eyes and returning to a more comfortable position against Michael’s side.

“Well, I might have, but now you’re cuddling me, and I also have a huge boner, so—“ Michael started.

“Not _that_ huge.”

“Fuck off.”

 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eventually, after hearing Calum and Ashton purposely half-yelling about how they _“sure wish some people would wake the fuck up before it gets dark out,”_ Luke rolled himself, along with every blanket, out of bed and stomped into the other boys’ shared bedroom, leaving Michael angry and shivering alone on the bed.

“Why are _you_ the little spoon?” Ashton asked the blonde curiously as he came to stand in the center of the room, sipping his mug of green tea.

“Michael likes to feel big,” Luke explained indignantly, puffing out his chest, “Now, what did you want?”

“It’s time for a roommate date.  It’s been too long since we all hung out, just us four.  So we’re gonna go sledding, since it snowed last night.  And then we’re gonna have hot cocoa.  And then we’re gonna go to the arcade.  And then we’re gonna grab dinner.  And dessert.  And it’s gonna be fun,” Calum said eagerly, bouncing up and down on the mattress where he was seated, “And then afterward, we’ll—GOD, _MICHAEL,_ GET THE FUCK _OUT!”_

Luke turned slightly and saw Michael standing in the doorway.  Butt ass naked and not even bothering to attempt any form of coverage.

“It’s not small, it’s just cold,” the black haired boy clarified, worming his way into Luke’s blanket cocoon to shield and warm himself.

\--------------------------------

“Babe, I’m sorry I was teasing you.  And pushed you off the sled.  And then put snow down your pants.  But it was fucking funny, you have to admit,” Michael apologized, trying to make light of the situation, patting the empty seat next to him.

Luke glowered at him from across the table, where he had opted to squish himself onto the bench with Ashton and Calum instead of sitting anywhere near his boyfriend.

“I think you went too far this time, buddy,” Ashton warned, sparing a sidelong glance at Calum, who nodded in agreement.

“Come on.  Let’s go back outside, and you can shove as much slush as you want down my boxers.  It’s only fair,” Michael offered.  He was met with silence as Luke’s gaze snapped down to his own ceramic mug, filled with peppermint hot chocolate and whipped cream, and stayed there, his jaw clenched.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Michael knew his jokes tended to go a bit too far…pretty often.  The teasing, while perhaps a little stronger than usual, was just Michael being his annoying ass self.  Pushing Luke off the sled was a genuine accident, though one that had earned the younger boy a scrape on his chin, and the older boy had ended up toppling over himself once he hit a branch at the bottom of the hill anyway, leaving Luke and the other boys snickering at him from the top as he trudged back up through the knee-deep snow, his skin wet from faceplanting in the white powder.

However, he had absolutely known he was taking a risk the moment he thought it would be funny to coax Luke back onto the sled, Luke’s back to Michael’s front, and then, instead of wrapping his arms around the blonde’s waist, he grabbed two huge fistfuls of snow and shoved them down the front of Luke’s black joggers.  Luke had squealed and leapt away, dancing around and stomping his feet because his brain was apparently malfunctioning instead of trying to decide how to dispose of the snow.

The black haired boy thought it was cute, so he laughed, standing up, and Calum and Ashton laughed as well, until Luke lunged at Michael, knocking him backwards into the snow.  They wrestled for a bit, Luke chucking snowballs, and Michael still thought it was fun and games until he had Luke pinned underneath him and they were breathing heavily into each other’s faces, and he saw the first frustrated tears in Luke’s eyes.  That’s when Michael knew he was about to experience death.

He immediately backed off, grasping Luke’s forearm and helping him to sit up, and Luke scooted away, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.  From the corner of his eye, he could see Ashton and Calum standing awkwardly some feet away, grabbing the sled and hurrying down the hill themselves after Michael aggressively waved them away from the situation.

“Are you okay?” Michael breathed. 

“I didn’t bring extra _pants_ , you fuckhead!”

“I know, I’m sorry, that was stupid,” Michael apologized, walking on his knees towards Luke.  The blonde held out one hand, stopping him before he could reach his destination, hiding his face in his knees.

“Just—leave me alone for a little, okay?  I’m not having a good day.  I’m cranky.  And I just don’t feel good.  And now my clothes are soaked.”

“Why aren’t you having a good day?  Don’t want to do all these activities or…?”

“No, I dunno.  I just woke up feeling weird and bad.  Maybe I’m getting sick or something.  I’ll get over it, I just need to be alone for a minute,” Luke grumbled.

“Okay, baby.  I’m sorry, I hope you feel better,” Michael said quietly, standing up and walking behind Luke to plant a kiss on the top of his head, then trotting off to join the others, who had busied themselves with deciding upon which café would have the best hot cocoa.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Luke had calmed himself by the time they had arrived at the café of Ashton’s choosing, but was, so far, still opting for the old silent treatment paired with the classic scathing looks and flaring nostrils.

Michael sat diagonally from him, making funny faces and making kissy noises at him occasionally, but it wasn’t working.  Eventually, he stood up, sighing, and walked back to the front counter, speaking to the barista.  He returned after a moment, carrying a cup of crushed ice.

The older boy took Luke’s hand, prying it off of the white mug, and pressed the cup of ice into it instead.  Luke finally looked up upon feeling the cold plastic on his skin.  Michael gave him a grave look, then closed his eyes and sucked in his gut, tugging on the waistband of his jeans.

“Do it.  I’m ready.  Fucking do it,” he gritted out, bracing himself, “We’re the only people in here, the barista said he didn’t mind if I screamed or whatever.”

Luke stared up at him.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he scoffed, face finally cracking into a smile.  He shook his head, and Michael almost thought he wouldn’t do it.  But then he yanked the waistband of Michael’s pants and boxers forward and poured the whole fucking cup of ice in, causing Michael to drop to the floor and kick his legs around, shouting out various expletives until the majority of the ice melted and soaked into his pants.

“God, now it looks like we’re hanging out with _two_ idiots who pissed themselves,” Calum remarked tiredly, shaking his head as he downed the remains of his drink.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What’s your guys’ plan for next year, as far as living arrangements?” Ashton asked, digging into his banana split.

“Dunno,” Luke said, his shoulder pressed into Michael’s at their booth, effectively smushing the older boy into the faux-brick wall.  But Michael thought that was fine, as long as Luke kept playing with his fingers and bracelets. “Haven’t really thought about it.”

“ _Should_ we be thinking about it?  It _is_ only February,” Calum pointed out.

“Valentine’s Day is _sooooon_ ,” Luke noted, poking Michael in the cheek with his nose.  The black haired boy pushed back, by opening his mouth and chomping his teeth jokingly towards Luke’s face.

“You guys are seriously gross.  Anyway, it’s not a pressing need, but I’ve been looking out of curiosity,” Ashton continued, “I’m graduating, so unfortunately I won’t be able to live in the dorms, er, _residence halls,_ for a fifth year.  I’ve been looking at apartments, but it seems like it might be cheaper to rent a house…like, say, one with three bedrooms?”

“Are _you_ asking _us_ to live with you _again_?” Calum asked, pausing from devouring his turtle sundae to place a disbelieving hand on his chest, “I’m honestly flattered.”

“Yeah, actually.  You’ve all been ideal roommates this year, aside from Luke always causing a flood in the shower.  And then, there’s also the fact that, I’m pretty confident in saying, you guys have become my best friends,” Ashton said casually, “Unless _you guys_ don’t think we’re best friends.  Then cancel that, because that’s awkward.”

“Nope, no doubt about that,” the brown eyed boy agreed, “I think we all slotted in extremely nicely into this weird naked burp and fart fest that we’ve got going on.  That’s something you only find once in a lifetime.”

Luke took Michael’s hand in both of his own in his lap, lacing their fingers together and squeezing tightly.  Michael looked at him questioningly, trying to analyze his near-blank expression.

“Something wrong?” he asked quietly.

“No,” Luke said, aloud, starting to smile down at their joined hands, “I’m just… _happy._   I’m really, just, happy to have all of you.  I don’t know if I’ve ever had, like, people that I _thought_ were my best friends, that actually felt the same way before, instead of, like, _‘Oh, here comes fucking Luke again, yuck.’_   I love you guys.”

“I love you guys too.  If I hadn’t gotten stuck with this specific group of roommates, I don’t know where I’d be.  Probably off somewhere being fucking miserable.  I feel like this is an extremely rare and special type of friendship, like we’re a bunch of legendary Pokémon,” Michael added, gripping the blonde’s hand and squeezing back.

“Don’t get sappy at the dinner table,” Calum said fondly, “But.  Alright.  I know exactly what you mean.”

“I feel the same way,” Ashton agreed.

Michael felt his chest swell with warmth.  He felt light, he felt like his life was saturated with color, replacing the seemingly everlasting dull tones of his world just a few months earlier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry christmas :')  
> i dont know if im suddenly blind or something but i cannot for the life of me find the page-break button anymore?? god i hope it actually moved because i feel really stupid that i cant find it and had to use those ------------s lmaoooo


	29. Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentine's Day.

“Calum, I have a favor to ask you,” Michael said, accidentally sneaking up on the brown eyed boy while he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing his teeth.  He jerked in surprise, nearly choking on his toothbrush, before whipping around to face the older boy.

“Jesus, you scared me.  What is it?” he asked around a mouthful of toothpaste.  He turned back to the sink, spitting the rest out and putting his toothbrush back in its holder.

“Do you think you could get your hands on a bottle or two of wine for me, for tomorrow?  I feel like Luke would really love something shitty and predictable like red wine on Valentine’s Day.  And you’re always well-stocked on alcohol,” Michael ventured, running a hand through his freshly-dyed red hair.

“Eugh, how _romantic,_ ” Calum mock-shuddered, rolling his eyes, “Just ask Ashton to get you some.  That’s where I always get my booze.”

“Are you serious?” the redhead asked, gaping at the other boy, “He never told _me_ that he’d do that!”

“He never _told_ me either,” Calum shrugged, “He doesn’t advertise.  Just, one day, I thought I’d give it a shot, so I asked.  And all he said was, ‘sure, if you give me money,’ and I was like, ‘what the fuck Ashton,’ and he just said, ‘but you didn’t get it from me,’ and something about how he obviously wasn’t going to buy alcohol for a bunch of underage strangers right at the beginning of the year.  But now, I really don’t think he cares what we do as long as we aren’t dying or getting arrested.”

“Good to know…” Michael said thoughtfully, “Thanks.”

* * *

 

“What kind do you want?” Ashton asked, not even looking up from where he was scrolling down his Facebook newsfeed.  Michael startled at how fucking nonchalant this was.  He couldn’t imagine the Ashton he knew at the beginning of the year encouraging this sort of riffraff behavior.

“Uh,” he said lamely, “I dunno.  Red?  Something that doesn’t taste like shit?  I don’t drink wine, I have no idea.  And I’m a little offended that you didn’t offer to buy stuff for me earlier, I’ve been getting ripped off at parties and paying people per-drink to use their alcohol this whole time.”

“You never asked before.  –Do you want, like, _good_ wine?  Because that can get expensive.  But if neither of you really care, that shitty Barefoot wine will do for like ten dollars.”

“Oh, no, you’re spot on with that.  I want like two bottles of cheap wine, somewhere above boxed wine but below like…any amount of respectability.  Moscato tastes the most like grape juice, right?  I don’t want to choke down nasty wine for the sake of classiness, I just wanna get drunk,” Michael said.

“Yeah, it’s decent.  What are your plans for tomorrow, then?  Or do I not want to know…?” Ashton asked curiously.

“The zoo… Is that lame?” Michael asked anxiously, “And dinner afterwards.  We’ve just been talking about the zoo for ages and the weather’s finally been getting decent enough to have some of the animals outside, plus I Googled it and the indoor enclosures are cool anyway.  And there’s free admission for tomorrow, we talked about it and thought it would be nice,” he babbled.

“No, no,” Ashton said comfortingly, “The zoo is always a really nice date.  Low pressure, it’s fun, all that good stuff.  And if you both agreed on it, that’s also great.  You’ll have fun.”

“It’s not stupid?  Are you sure?”

“No!  Why are you getting so nervous?  You’re not going to fucking propose, it’s just a date!  You’ve been on tons of dates together!”

Michael took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

“Yeah, you’re right.  I don’t know.  Anyway, and then we’re gonna come back here, lock ourselves in our room, and get fucking wine wasted like a couple of middle aged soccer moms with bad haircuts,” he added with a grin.

“Just…don’t be too noisy,” Ashton sighed.

* * *

 

“Luuukey, wake up,” Michael said softly, hovering inches over Luke’s face, who was drooling rather unattractively, but somehow endearingly at the same time.

Luke stirred, rolling over and managing to gas Michael right in the face with his rank morning breath.  Michael cringed, but refused to falter.

“Wake up, my beautiful, _smelly_ , _horrible_ little prince,” the redhead tried, speaking a bit louder through grit teeth.

Luke cracked his eyes open, but apparently chose to ignore Michael, closing them again after looking down his nose at the older boy and turning his face to the wall.  Michael sighed, rolling off and stomping away to the kitchen, where Ashton was making a huge breakfast for the four of them, plus his girlfriend, producing a variety of delicious smells.  Michael plucked a piece of bacon from a paper plate, and left.

He dangled the bacon in front of Luke’s nose, causing an instant reaction.  One of Luke’s eyes opened, peeking to make sure this was the real deal, and immediately opened his mouth to allow Michael to place the piece gently inside.

“Where’s the rest,” Luke asked groggily when he was finished chewing, grabbing Michael’s arm to help himself sit up.  Michael smiled, hauling the other boy upright and leading him by the hand, barefoot and wearing only boxers underneath an oversized hoodie, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with his free hand, to the floor kitchen.

* * *

 

Michael was admiring the lions, the adults lazily lounging around their enclosure while the two cubs _(advertised on the zoo’s website as the new and exciting attraction)_ played with what appeared to be an oversized rubber dog toy, when he felt a pair of eyes on him for the fourth or fifth time since they’d arrived.  He looked down at their joined hands, the way the sleeve of his blue denim jacket contrasted against Luke’s black leather, before looking up to meet his eyes.

“Are you bored…?  Am I taking too long at each animal, or…?” Michael asked, self-conscious.

Luke looked surprised, his eyebrows raising towards his hairline.

“Huh?  What do you mean?”

“You keep staring at me, at every stop we’ve made since coming into the big-cat-building.”

“Oh,” Luke said, his cheeks feeling warm at the realization that he’d been caught, “I just…I like…the way you look at the animals.  It’s… _cute_.”

“Oh, like how I’ve been thinking it’s really _cute_ when you have a fun fact to share about each animal?  _That’s_ cute,” Michael countered, grinning slyly.

“Stop it,” Luke scoffed, bumping his shoulder into Michael’s.

“You’re so smart,” Michael continued.

“So are you.  _And_ you’re cute, so you win,” Luke replied.

“ _You’re_ cute,” Michael repeated, returning the shoulder bump.

“Shut up,” Luke laughed, smiling.  The older boy shifted, moving so he was standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the blonde.  He moved his head closer and closer, until Luke shivered at the feeling of Michael’s hot breath on his ear and neck.

“You want me to suck you off in an empty bathroom?” Michael whispered.  The zoo was rather deserted despite the free admission promotion, likely because most people would still deem the weather unacceptable to make the trip.

Luke’s face and ears turned bright red, nearly breaking his neck as he snapped his head to the side to gawk at his boyfriend.

_“Michael!”_ he exclaimed incredulously.

“Calm down, it was… just a _joke,_ ” Michael explained, winking, “But _maybe,_ another one of those jokes that’s _only_ a joke if you _don’t_ wanna do it.”

They were both silent after that, Michael smirking as he continued to gaze at the lions in front of him while Luke stared down at his shoes.

“Err…Where’s the nearest bathroom…?” Luke muttered after a while, laughing in disbelief at himself.

* * *

 

“Do you have any important classes tomorrow?” Michael asked, walking with Luke to the bus stop after dinner, their stomachs comfortably full of food.

Translation: _You’re going to skip your classes tomorrow, right?_

“Nah,” Luke said, squinting as if that would help him remember his schedule for Mondays, “I have accounting, but I get three free absences before they start affecting my grade.  Why?”

“Wanna get piss drunk on wine tonight?” the redhead asked hopefully, “Just us.”

“When did you get… never mind.  Yes.  I’ve never been wine-drunk before but I suspect there will be a lot of talk about our feelings,” Luke agreed.

“Pretty much.  You puke or cry, and the pleasantness is all over though.”

* * *

 

About an hour and a half later, the two boys were sat on the carpeted floor of their bedroom, each with an entire bottle of wine in hand, because Michael was a dumbass as usual and didn’t think to buy wine glasses and it just wouldn’t feel right to use red solo cups.  He hadn’t thought about getting a fucking corkscrew either, but thankfully Ashton could supply them with that.  He didn’t know how they ended up on the floor, but it somehow just felt like the place to be.  He pressed the half-drunk bottle to his lips for another swig, when Luke suddenly climbed into his lap, wrapping his arms around Michael’s ribs.

“Hiii Michael Iii looove you,” Luke slurred, burying his face in Michael’s collarbone.

“I love you too, how are you doing?” Michael asked, semi-drunk himself, squeezing Luke around the waist.

“’Feel good,” Luke said, closing his eyes, “How areyou?  Are you happy?”

 “Sure, I’m happy.”

“You have to tell me when you aren’t,” Luke insisted, “I’m not good with people.”

“I’m not good with people either, Luke,” Michael laughed, “Seems like neither of us are.”

“Ha.  That’sss funny,” Luke mumbled, closing his eyes snuggling further into Michael’s form, “But we’re good _together.”_

* * *

 

Michael had just entered his _drunk-and-talkative_ state when he and Luke decided that the _bed_ was now the place to be, after Luke had almost started crying while telling Michael how much he loved him, a few tears escaping before Michael intervened by gently plopping the younger boy onto the mattress and laying down with him, helping him to peel off his clothes and replacing them with a soft pair of flannel pajama pants.   Luke was currently laid on top of Michael with all his limbs straddling the older boy like an oversized koala, Michael gently scratching up and down Luke’s back while he spoke.

“Did you have a good day today?  I did.”

“Mhmm,” Luke replied.  Most of his replies were either soft _“mhmmmm”_ s or _“nuh-uh”_ s, and even the occasional _“iono”,_ but Michael could tell he was doing his best to listen, he just didn’t have the energy to give replies with any actual substance.

“My favorite part was giving you head in that nasty bathroom,” Michael said, earning a huff of laughter in return, “I can’t believe we looked all over the zoo for one fucking private bathroom, we must have wasted at least an hour, but it’s not like we could’ve given up at that point.  Much better than getting walked in on, though.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you disappointed that we didn’t do the whole, like, _giant stuffed animal and heart-shaped box of chocolates_ thing, though?  I’ve been worried that you thought our plans sucked and weren’t very Valentines-y since we didn’t do gifts or go romantic ice skating or whatever the fuck.”

“Nuh-uh,” Luke breathed quietly, squeezing Michael’s torso tighter, “Today….’sss good.”

“Good,” the older boy repeated, “Good, I’m glad.”

There was silence, aside from their breathing, before Michael thought of something else he wanted to say.

“Hey, Luke?  You still awake…?” Michael asked, giving Luke a chance to answer.  He didn’t receive one, other than the blonde’s slow and even breaths, “Guess not.  Good night,” he said, giving Luke a final kiss on the top of the head and stilling the movement of his hands, clasping them around Luke’s waist instead.

Luke’s hand slowly crept up to thump Michael on the forehead, twice.

“Mmmikey…”

“Do you need something?  Water?” the older boy asked quickly, not wanting to get thrown up on.

“You stopped ssscratching my back,” Luke murmured, adjusting his limbs so they wouldn’t fall asleep under Michael’s weight, then flopping back down bonelessly.

“You fell asleep,” Michael explained softly.

“Don’t care, didn’t tellyou to ssstop,” he replied with a yawn, smacking his wine-stained lips sleepily.  Michael snickered.

“Okay, sorry babe.  Love you.”

“Mmhmmmmhhh,” Luke began.  Michael could have sworn he repeated the phrase, but it got lost somewhere between the alcohol content in his bloodstream and the sleepiness in his voice, and he was immediately asleep once more.  Michael smiled and took a deep breath, closing his own eyes, allowing the warmth and coziness to swallow him whole as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yikes there's only one chapter to go! this fic wasn't really a well-rounded story (as in, it was mostly a more-connected oneshot/drabble series than a complete fic imo) but i think since i hadn't written anything in a long time it really helped warm me up for future things so i hope people who've been reading this stick around for what's coming next :')


	30. énouement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bittersweetness of having arrived in the future, seeing how things turn out, but not being able to tell your past self.

Michael sat on his bed amid piles of cardboard boxes, filled with most of his worldly possessions, scrolling through an app on his phone, a warm summer breeze rolling in through his open window.  He felt excited— August 1st was quickly approaching, the day that he, along with his best friends, were finally allowed to move into their new place.  It was a three bedroom house, a few blocks away from campus.  He looked forward to hanging a hammock in the backyard and lounging around with his friends and a beer.  The negative perspective and feelings of dread he experienced this time last year were more or less eradicated.  His phone buzzed.

 **lukey:** 6 more days!!!!!!!!!!!

 **mikey:** yaaaasssss! i finished packing today, my hands are completely covered in papercuts from the boxes : (

 **lukey:** i will kiss them better :- )

 **mikey:** oooh i hope it leads to something kinky ;)

 **lukey:** can we have one conversation where u dont try and fail to sext me

 **mikey:** nope

 **lukey:** i finally told my parents we are living Together…instead of just living together.  if u know what i mean

 **mikey:** omg??? how did that go???

                i cant believe they made me sleep on the living room couch for a week when i visited lmao

                we are grown men for fuck sake

 **lukey:** that was the dumbest thing ever

                they were mad and told me we are gonna break up after a week and i will end up homeless

                and i think they think im a virgin even though there is irrefutable evidence of me suckin D

 **mikey:** when i see them next week i’ll let them know that i fucked their son on the family couch while they slept blissfully unaware upstairs : )

 **lukey:** DO!!!!!!! NOT!!!!!!!!!

* * *

 

“Two feet to the left!” Calum shouted, directing the three boys in moving their new plush sofa around the living room.  “Now push it back, just a little!”

“Like this?” Ashton panted, pausing to wipe sweat from his forehead.  They had been at it for hours now, rearranging décor into just the right places around the house after their families had left them alone with the clutter of boxes and furniture, more than happy to leave the boys with all the work.

“Almost.  Move it, like, three feet over towards that window – Perfect!” The brown eyed boy said enthusiastically, clapping his hands a little.

“Calum, you just had us move it _exactly_ back to _where it was an hour ago!_ ” Michael snapped, tugging at his own hair, frustrated.  Calum offered him a sheepish smile and a shrug in return.

* * *

 

“We’re leaving for dinner promptly at seven, don’t make me come in there and drag you out by your dicks!” Ashton called, waving a stray spatula from the kitchen where he had begun to unpack their cooking goods.  He had figured there was some sort of ulterior motive when Michael had taken Luke by the hand and began leading the blonde upstairs with the wink-filled explanation of _‘decorating the bedroom’_.  Michael’s motives actually weren’t all that sinister—he’d just figured they’d be more likely to be left alone if he acted suggestive about it, and if past experiences were an indicator, he was right.

“Mmm, I missed you,” Michael said quietly, wrapping one arm tightly around Luke’s middle while using the other to shut the bedroom door, breathing in the other’s scent deeply.

“Don’t smell me, I’m all sweaty, it’s gross,” Luke protested, scrunching up his nose and half-heartedly attempting to pull away from Michael, who began to kiss up and down the blonde’s neck.

“I’m sweaty too.  And it’s not gross, you smell like _Luke_ ,” Michael replied, settling for nuzzling his face into Luke’s collarbone.

“…I missed you too,” Luke sighed finally, allowing the older boy to lead the both of them to the huge circular plush bowl chair in the corner of the room.  Michael supposed it was a fine substitute for the bed, just for the moment, dreading looking through copious amounts of boxes for the mattress pad and sheets.  They curled up on the cushion, forehead to forehead, snuggling in as Luke threw his long legs over Michael’s bent ones.

“I fucking _hated_ moving all that furniture, so fucking annoying,” the redhead murmured, running his hand up and down Luke’s thigh, “So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to take a nap with my small human bean for a bit.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Luke breathed, eyelids already drooping and eventually falling shut, his breath becoming more even. 

He shivered a little then, goosebumps appearing on his bare arms, causing Michael to glance up, noting that the air conditioner was in fact in working conditioning, cool air gently blowing into the room through a vent above their heads.  Michael twisted, stretching to reach the quilt laid across the top of the nearby desk and turning back to drape it over the both of them.  He startled when he saw that Luke’s eyes had popped back open, the younger boy staring into his green eyes with a slight frown on his lips, lines of sunlight coming in through the window illuminating his features.

“Yeah?” Michael inquired.

“You stopped petting my leg,” Luke whined, pouting and wiggling his limb to confirm that, true, Michael’s hand _was_ no longer on it.

“You were _seriously_ just asleep!” he argued.

“Well, now I’m not,” Luke shrugged, sticking his tongue out.

“Spoiled brat,” Michael snorted, resuming his movements nonetheless.  Luke closed his eyes again, nuzzling his nose against Michael’s.

“You _looove_ me,” he said sweetly.

“Yeah,” Michael agreed, sighing, “I do.”

* * *

 

“Mean Girls, Mean Girls, Mean Girls, Mean Girls!” Luke chanted enthusiastically, practically flying into the living room and vaulting himself over the back of the sofa, throwing himself onto the cushions, nearly kicking Calum in the face.  Ashton cowered in the corner seat, clutching his bowl of popcorn protectively.

Michael followed Luke into the living room, a bowl of popcorn for himself in one hand and the DVD case for Mean Girls in the other.  He had presented Luke with the movie in the car after dinner, a small housewarming present from Michael’s parents, who had heard tales of the blonde’s frustration with the film never appearing on Netflix.

Luke scrambled off the couch, bouncing excitedly as he all but ripped the DVD from Michael’s hands, hopping over to the laptop he’d set up next to the television as a makeshift DVD player, and put the movie in, pressing ‘play’ when prompted.  He turned around, seeming to be scoping out a prime seat on the sofa, before plopping down, his head in Michael’s lap while his legs stretched over the other two boys.

“Aren’t you a little big for this?” Calum asked jokingly, “There was an _actual_ space to _sit_ right between me and Michael.”

“I like this better.” The younger boy said simply, snuggling into Michael’s thigh.

“Just a warning, your head is probably gonna be used as a table for my popcorn bowl,” the redhead teased, ruffling Luke’s hair.

* * *

 

“Gotta pee,” Calum announced when the credits began to roll, pushing Luke’s legs off his lap.

“Nooo, you’re gonna ruin everything!” Luke complained, but moving out of the way nonetheless.  He opted to curl against Michael’s side instead, Michael’s arm draped over his shoulders.

After a few moments of Ashton getting up to grab another beer, along with shuffling around to find comfortable positions after Calum’s return, the familiar bickering began as the boys attempted to decide which movie would be coming up next.

“I wanna watch Batman, the one with Heath Ledger,” Luke suggested.

“Oh, no, if we’re watching a superhero movie, it’s gonna be The Avengers,” Ashton countered.

“Well, why not Captain America?” Calum asked, “The second one.  _So_ good.”

“I say, we should have a marathon of the horrible Tobey Maguire Spiderman series,” Michael chimed in sarcastically, to which he received a swift _“NO!!!”_ from the other three.

Michael felt Luke shift against him, felt his ribs expanding with a deep breath.  He was like a warm puppy, and Michael couldn’t help but lean down and press a kiss to the top of his blonde hair.  Luke looked up, giving Michael a kissy face, and the redhead leaned in further to give his boyfriend a proper kiss.

“They’re distracted, turn on The Avengers, quick, go!” Calum shouted, urging Ashton off the couch and towards the laptop, giggling.

Michael looked up to give the pair a mock-sour expression, then laughed and settled back into the couch cushions, Luke following suit.  He smiled, feeling the warmth of the blonde next to him and the closeness of his friends, experiencing a sense of belonging that hadn’t been present just a year prior to this.  As he watched the movie playing on Luke’s flat screen TV, set up on the wooden television stand across the living room, and listened to his friends’ comments that made him burst out laughing, Michael could only feel real contentment. 

This was nice.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading everyone!! it was really nice to get back into writing, hope you stick around for future fics!! :')


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